by Florence Ondré
007 is near.
Can you hear the James Bond music playing in the background?
The notes have the air of mystery and anticipation of a light, engaging experience which comes always to a positive end where romance meets romance, chase scenes are spectacular, scenery is eye popping, everyone looks fantastic, good triumphs and the endings always bring on million mega watt smiles .
You hear the intro and you know the ride will be exciting and fun and the outcomes will be positive.
Remember those movies of daring, romance and joi de vivre? You never knew how the outcomes of life’s adventures would look up there on the silver screen and yet you knew they would be positive in ways you mightn’t imagine.
I’ve been saying for years, let the outcomes be better than I can imagine and my friend, Cindy, a writer of inspirational aphorisms, adds…better than the best I can imagine!
I say let’s look for those Double 07 threads and results in our own lives in the new year.
I feel the anticipation of a year upon us which has all those components of a sense of surety and strength which comes from knowing you are centered and acting for the Highest Good of your self and all; partnering with that energy, taking direction from those you trust and from that still sure voice within you; keeping your sensitivity and compassion alive as your story unfolds; being patient yet continuing to believe in and affirm, nay demand, that the outcome of each situation be better than the best you can imagine and for the Highest Good of all.
Then watch how it comes about out of seemingly secret places and what has been around you longer than you were aware.
Remember too, even 007 got side swiped a few times before he triumphed and when he thought he was done for, the helicopters arrived out of the blue and dropped him a rope or he noticed a pin in blades of grass or a pile of dust which got him out of manacles…surprises, surprises!
You, like our suave James, have resources which come to you at just the right time even if you don’t see them now. They will be your own versions of the car that spills ink out the back to foil the chase, the pen which doubles as neutralizer spray, camera, computer and fax, or the watch which tell more than time with its hidden mechanisms of lock pick, communicator and recorder.
Get ready folks. It’s going to be an exciting year filled with positive 007 outcomes.
Draw yourself up. Tilt your head to that rakish Bond angle. Sense your inner and outer surroundings. Feel the confidence and entitlement to the best of the best.
Count down is upon us. The adventure begins.
Film is about to roll and you are the star.
Do you hear the music?
Saturday, December 30, 2006
Friday, December 29, 2006
Thursday, December 28, 2006
Quote For The Day
"The only gift is a portion of thyself."
Ralph Waldo Emerson, writer and philosopher (1803-1882)
Ralph Waldo Emerson, writer and philosopher (1803-1882)
Friday, December 22, 2006
Giving and Receiving
by Florence Ondré
I'm grateful for a time when I didn't feel much gratitude at all.
That may sound odd and yet it's true.
Looking back to when times were particularly challenging; seeming like the bottomless pit of despair swallowed me whole, I can see not only how difficult it was to put one foot in front of the other but how the mere basic of breathing was an act of courage.
What I also see is where humility and acceptance of help from others was a large part of the lesson of beingfor me to work through.
In years of days of being ill with Chronic Fatigue Immune Dysfunction Syndrome; so flat-out exhausted from even a whispered thought of putting foot to floor to balance bed encompassment; where holidays were a mere memory of musings from another world beyond aching joints and muscles, swollen glands, constant low grade fevers and inability to speak or act without wishing I had enough energy to scream at the injustice of the ravaging disease, one special day stands out.
When my resources of body, mind, spirit and finances were at lowest ebb; with the holiday a mere day away and no route seen wherein I could have anything for my kids, there came a knock at my door.
Taking my then usual God-knows-how-long to get out of bed, shuffle down the hall and open it, I found no one in sight of the portal. Neither left nor right glances showed anything but a quiet street; deserted of traffic, foot or vehicle.
However, when I tried to open my door for a better look-see, it was stopped mid way by a big box.
I looked into it and there, appearing like magic; staring up at me, was a big turkey, complete with all the fixings for a holiday meal!
Amazing!
Because of the kindess of strangers anonymously acting on their hearts' energy, there would be a holiday for my kids and I that year where there would otherwise have been none.
It is miracle I have never forgotten and still treasure in my heart and mind each year.
Checking in with my boys, now grown with families of their own, we discuss that gift giving which enriched our lives and we all agree what a God-send it was.
We never found out who did that incredibly good deed, yet the threads of that experience are woven in the tapestry of our hearts and memories. We also can still feel the warmth of that unconditional open-heartedness and are grateful there was the kindness of strangers who saw and acted on our behalf; who gave us the sustenance, happiness and gratitude in the holidays.
To those dear ones wherever you are, we sing thank you.
Because of you, we had light in the darkness and to this day, remember the gift which keeps on giving. We find our own ways to follow your example and pay it forward, backwards and sideways where we can. We are grateful to be the ripples from your pebble in our pond and hope what small help we can be in the world will be a bridge for others out of their dark moments into lighter days.
We know there is light not only at the end of the tunnel...it sometimes is in lanterns of generosity along the way.
I'm grateful for a time when I didn't feel much gratitude at all.
That may sound odd and yet it's true.
Looking back to when times were particularly challenging; seeming like the bottomless pit of despair swallowed me whole, I can see not only how difficult it was to put one foot in front of the other but how the mere basic of breathing was an act of courage.
What I also see is where humility and acceptance of help from others was a large part of the lesson of beingfor me to work through.
In years of days of being ill with Chronic Fatigue Immune Dysfunction Syndrome; so flat-out exhausted from even a whispered thought of putting foot to floor to balance bed encompassment; where holidays were a mere memory of musings from another world beyond aching joints and muscles, swollen glands, constant low grade fevers and inability to speak or act without wishing I had enough energy to scream at the injustice of the ravaging disease, one special day stands out.
When my resources of body, mind, spirit and finances were at lowest ebb; with the holiday a mere day away and no route seen wherein I could have anything for my kids, there came a knock at my door.
Taking my then usual God-knows-how-long to get out of bed, shuffle down the hall and open it, I found no one in sight of the portal. Neither left nor right glances showed anything but a quiet street; deserted of traffic, foot or vehicle.
However, when I tried to open my door for a better look-see, it was stopped mid way by a big box.
I looked into it and there, appearing like magic; staring up at me, was a big turkey, complete with all the fixings for a holiday meal!
Amazing!
Because of the kindess of strangers anonymously acting on their hearts' energy, there would be a holiday for my kids and I that year where there would otherwise have been none.
It is miracle I have never forgotten and still treasure in my heart and mind each year.
Checking in with my boys, now grown with families of their own, we discuss that gift giving which enriched our lives and we all agree what a God-send it was.
We never found out who did that incredibly good deed, yet the threads of that experience are woven in the tapestry of our hearts and memories. We also can still feel the warmth of that unconditional open-heartedness and are grateful there was the kindness of strangers who saw and acted on our behalf; who gave us the sustenance, happiness and gratitude in the holidays.
To those dear ones wherever you are, we sing thank you.
Because of you, we had light in the darkness and to this day, remember the gift which keeps on giving. We find our own ways to follow your example and pay it forward, backwards and sideways where we can. We are grateful to be the ripples from your pebble in our pond and hope what small help we can be in the world will be a bridge for others out of their dark moments into lighter days.
We know there is light not only at the end of the tunnel...it sometimes is in lanterns of generosity along the way.
Thursday, December 21, 2006
Quote For The Day
"My aim is to agitate and disturb people. I'm not selling bread, I'm selling yeast." Miguel de Unamuno, writer and philosopher (1864-1936)
Beef Boor-gignon...or size isn't all that matters!
by Florence Ondré
The question of the day is why do men driving big vehicles on the road find it necessary to make as much noise as possible, grab as much asphalt as available,rage in rudeness and, all in all, make honking hogs out of themselves in every possible way?
To what purpose is the pushing and shoving of moving metal and rubber to the injury and insult of everyone else around?
It's one thing to have to put up with this innapropriate and unsafe behavior on the road. Too many days and nights have seen me arrive home in a sweat or lather in fear or outrage after enduring the scare tactics and thoughtlessness of some neanderthal at the helm of an SUV, Hummer or 18 wheeler, sitting for blocks - and sometimes miles - on the ass end of my little Acura. Me doing the speed limit while they wanted to bump me up to 80mph or shove me off the road altogether...this with their high beams on of course.
Don't you guys get it? That does nothing but slow us speedbumps in your life further down to almost zero. Hey, schmuck! You'll never accomplish your move-your-ass-get-out-of-my-way goals with those tactics. We can't see. You've shoved your high beams up our eyeballs through our rear... view mirror!
Even that doesn't deter their self-centeredness-at-all-costs, bad-boy behavior. You slow down to a crawl or try to move along a bit faster and it still isn't enough for these accidents-looking-for-a-place-to-happen. They plow to the left or right and cut the rest of the three lanes of drivers off without so much as a hint of a signal or cut an illegal swath left around you; going into oncoming traffic while you sit in the left lane doing 5 to 10 miles over the speed limit.
And onward they stream without a cop in sight to help stem the continual warm-up rehearsal of the me-me-me road rage song.
I once got a ticket for speeding up to avoid getting my car rammed from behind. Me! Not the truck pushing me past the 40 mph allowed. I got the speeding ticket while that bozo screamed on at better than 60. I can still feel the WTF look on my face.
This holiday season, I had to call the UPS company to ask them to curb their employee, the driver on our neighborhood route. The man is a big, able bodied guy who is not happy in his work. Holiday ho ho ho is out of the question as he lobs packages onto the front porch from 12 paces down the walkway. One day, he's hurling them to crash to the concrete and the next, he piles them up at the edge of our one-step front porch to block our front door from any thought of exit.
He races that brown truck at break neck speed, whipping it around in u turns and circles without looking to see if child or pet might be flattened under his wheels. He wants each day to be over with before it begins and snaps nastily if he sees you. "Get that dog back buddy!" he yelled one day at my mild-mannered mate and our aging, sleepy eyed golden retriever who were both behind closed-tight, glass, storm door.
"I don't remember ordering a side of attitude with that gift package," I say, as I reach for the phone to finally put in the complaint which we'd been holding off doing for weeks because we thought the guy would then spit on our boxes or do terrible things to them in the truck, before delivering crumpled messes to the vermin at this address who ratted him out.
Yeah, well, intimidation and beligerance run amok works only so far.
Wrath only plays so long in this theatre and I'll take my chances giving honest reviews. "UPS yours, fella!"
Now, the guy never darkens our doorstep. He still drives...slower on our block...and still races the minute he hits the corner but he does not interact with humans anymore. He has been assigned a helper; a kid who takes the extra three steps and places the packages neatly on our porch, safely in the corner. I'm left thinking maybe asking for competent, safe courteous service turned into a many-fold blessing. We get appropriate delivery service, the over-steamed driver who lacked people skills gets help he needed and the kid gets a job.
I wish all road rage petered out into positives.
And just when I thought things had calmed down, today, I was shaken out of my bed by the rumbling of big wheels, driving at the speed of light down my block. The shifting of my house on its foundations and the rattle of the china and glass walking out of their cabinets knocked me out of the covers. Literally my whole house shook!
And there was another added attraction to the Big Top of Tumult. Deep throated air horns pierced the quiet, early morn where only the soughing of wind off the ocean and an occasional cry of a seagull had previously slipped into my near-dawn consciousness.
Neath still closed eyes, I thought, "Boy, the school bus sure is in a hurry, early!"
Intermittent steamship-like honking went on for over an hour. I couldn't completely pull myself out of the soup of sleep past my planning to run out in nightclothes and slippers; wanting to yank that overgrown bully boy out of his cab by the scruff of his no neck and remind him of his manners!
"Be quiet. People are sleeping here! Don't come into our neighborhood unless you can behave yourself. And when you can remember to think of others besides your self, drive down our streets slowly and carefully or don't drive here at all!" runs the admonishments in my befogged mind.
Finally, I drag myself out of semi consciousness to blunder down the stairs to look out the windows; searching for the perpetrator of stolen-sleep and breaking-and- entering-without-leaving-the-cab-of-your-semi.
All that remains at the crime scene, after the assault, is two glasses and a teacup on the floor near the china cabinet's open door, a couple of books off their shelves, and the sounds of the silence I wished had encompassed the world for another hour or two. Here the whisper of wind in the pines; there a seagull's cry... and nothing else but the gurgling of water in the heating system left...and me, wide awake, wanting just a little bit more peace in the morning before having to armor up to drive to the grocery store.
It's quiet on my street now as I write this but I know there's a "King of the Heap," revving his gas guzzling, world polluting, excess out there assaulting someone on the road. Some jerk in a perrenial bad mood; middle finger and curses at the ready to flail at you if you didn'tget your memo to stay out of his way.
I just didn't think they'd be able to do drive their way into our homes!
How do you speak up from there?
On the highways, you've got the option of beeping your own horn, waving your hands, giving the finger, yelling, "Slow down! Get off my bumper...expletive deleted!" or sporting a bumper sticker, lettering some courtesy, sarcasm or witticism which points out the error of the bully's ways.
I've even considered one for my car that has a drawing of a honking big SUV which succinctly says, "Sorry about your small penis, fella."
This morning, I'm thinking of putting it on the front of my house!
The question of the day is why do men driving big vehicles on the road find it necessary to make as much noise as possible, grab as much asphalt as available,rage in rudeness and, all in all, make honking hogs out of themselves in every possible way?
To what purpose is the pushing and shoving of moving metal and rubber to the injury and insult of everyone else around?
It's one thing to have to put up with this innapropriate and unsafe behavior on the road. Too many days and nights have seen me arrive home in a sweat or lather in fear or outrage after enduring the scare tactics and thoughtlessness of some neanderthal at the helm of an SUV, Hummer or 18 wheeler, sitting for blocks - and sometimes miles - on the ass end of my little Acura. Me doing the speed limit while they wanted to bump me up to 80mph or shove me off the road altogether...this with their high beams on of course.
Don't you guys get it? That does nothing but slow us speedbumps in your life further down to almost zero. Hey, schmuck! You'll never accomplish your move-your-ass-get-out-of-my-way goals with those tactics. We can't see. You've shoved your high beams up our eyeballs through our rear... view mirror!
Even that doesn't deter their self-centeredness-at-all-costs, bad-boy behavior. You slow down to a crawl or try to move along a bit faster and it still isn't enough for these accidents-looking-for-a-place-to-happen. They plow to the left or right and cut the rest of the three lanes of drivers off without so much as a hint of a signal or cut an illegal swath left around you; going into oncoming traffic while you sit in the left lane doing 5 to 10 miles over the speed limit.
And onward they stream without a cop in sight to help stem the continual warm-up rehearsal of the me-me-me road rage song.
I once got a ticket for speeding up to avoid getting my car rammed from behind. Me! Not the truck pushing me past the 40 mph allowed. I got the speeding ticket while that bozo screamed on at better than 60. I can still feel the WTF look on my face.
This holiday season, I had to call the UPS company to ask them to curb their employee, the driver on our neighborhood route. The man is a big, able bodied guy who is not happy in his work. Holiday ho ho ho is out of the question as he lobs packages onto the front porch from 12 paces down the walkway. One day, he's hurling them to crash to the concrete and the next, he piles them up at the edge of our one-step front porch to block our front door from any thought of exit.
He races that brown truck at break neck speed, whipping it around in u turns and circles without looking to see if child or pet might be flattened under his wheels. He wants each day to be over with before it begins and snaps nastily if he sees you. "Get that dog back buddy!" he yelled one day at my mild-mannered mate and our aging, sleepy eyed golden retriever who were both behind closed-tight, glass, storm door.
"I don't remember ordering a side of attitude with that gift package," I say, as I reach for the phone to finally put in the complaint which we'd been holding off doing for weeks because we thought the guy would then spit on our boxes or do terrible things to them in the truck, before delivering crumpled messes to the vermin at this address who ratted him out.
Yeah, well, intimidation and beligerance run amok works only so far.
Wrath only plays so long in this theatre and I'll take my chances giving honest reviews. "UPS yours, fella!"
Now, the guy never darkens our doorstep. He still drives...slower on our block...and still races the minute he hits the corner but he does not interact with humans anymore. He has been assigned a helper; a kid who takes the extra three steps and places the packages neatly on our porch, safely in the corner. I'm left thinking maybe asking for competent, safe courteous service turned into a many-fold blessing. We get appropriate delivery service, the over-steamed driver who lacked people skills gets help he needed and the kid gets a job.
I wish all road rage petered out into positives.
And just when I thought things had calmed down, today, I was shaken out of my bed by the rumbling of big wheels, driving at the speed of light down my block. The shifting of my house on its foundations and the rattle of the china and glass walking out of their cabinets knocked me out of the covers. Literally my whole house shook!
And there was another added attraction to the Big Top of Tumult. Deep throated air horns pierced the quiet, early morn where only the soughing of wind off the ocean and an occasional cry of a seagull had previously slipped into my near-dawn consciousness.
Neath still closed eyes, I thought, "Boy, the school bus sure is in a hurry, early!"
Intermittent steamship-like honking went on for over an hour. I couldn't completely pull myself out of the soup of sleep past my planning to run out in nightclothes and slippers; wanting to yank that overgrown bully boy out of his cab by the scruff of his no neck and remind him of his manners!
"Be quiet. People are sleeping here! Don't come into our neighborhood unless you can behave yourself. And when you can remember to think of others besides your self, drive down our streets slowly and carefully or don't drive here at all!" runs the admonishments in my befogged mind.
Finally, I drag myself out of semi consciousness to blunder down the stairs to look out the windows; searching for the perpetrator of stolen-sleep and breaking-and- entering-without-leaving-the-cab-of-your-semi.
All that remains at the crime scene, after the assault, is two glasses and a teacup on the floor near the china cabinet's open door, a couple of books off their shelves, and the sounds of the silence I wished had encompassed the world for another hour or two. Here the whisper of wind in the pines; there a seagull's cry... and nothing else but the gurgling of water in the heating system left...and me, wide awake, wanting just a little bit more peace in the morning before having to armor up to drive to the grocery store.
It's quiet on my street now as I write this but I know there's a "King of the Heap," revving his gas guzzling, world polluting, excess out there assaulting someone on the road. Some jerk in a perrenial bad mood; middle finger and curses at the ready to flail at you if you didn'tget your memo to stay out of his way.
I just didn't think they'd be able to do drive their way into our homes!
How do you speak up from there?
On the highways, you've got the option of beeping your own horn, waving your hands, giving the finger, yelling, "Slow down! Get off my bumper...expletive deleted!" or sporting a bumper sticker, lettering some courtesy, sarcasm or witticism which points out the error of the bully's ways.
I've even considered one for my car that has a drawing of a honking big SUV which succinctly says, "Sorry about your small penis, fella."
This morning, I'm thinking of putting it on the front of my house!
Wednesday, December 20, 2006
Quote For The Day
""Words are chameleons, which reflect the color of their environment."
Learned Hand, jurist (1872-1961)
Learned Hand, jurist (1872-1961)
A Rose By Any Other Name...
by Florence Ondré
"Oh, honey, I heard you making sleepy noises last night. You sounded soooo cute!"
That was my body's gasping for life breath during the night of sleep; also known as the little death.
Isn't it humorous how love can change even the worst gargling sounds into coos; the most unimaginable ralings into adorable traits and the human body's hoots and toots into something to chuckle about?!
Whistles, eeks and squeaks and pit stop rests in between ee aws and lip quavering brrrs are anything but cute folks.
Let's be honest here...it's snoring!
Plain and simple, not too attractive noise that rocks and rolls the house, shakes the bed and rattles your bones!
It's serious stuff. People can stop breathing. You can lose loved ones - from your sleeping quarters and your life. (Isn't there a box under the 'cause' heading you can check nowadays when filing for divorce that says, "Irreconcilable Snoring?")
Can you remember a time when you thought, "Oh, it's not me. It's only the other person who makes those silly sounds?" And now, here you find yourself facing the stone cold, hard truth....It's you!!!!!!!
You've become the in-residence noisemaker.
How could that have happened? You've been dainty all your life and now you are in the buzz saw category without so much as a by-your-leave from the Gods!
Here's what you've come to in life:
The only saving grace is that you have someone who loves you who thinks you're making 'sleepy noises'...and you're cute.
"Oh, honey, I heard you making sleepy noises last night. You sounded soooo cute!"
That was my body's gasping for life breath during the night of sleep; also known as the little death.
Isn't it humorous how love can change even the worst gargling sounds into coos; the most unimaginable ralings into adorable traits and the human body's hoots and toots into something to chuckle about?!
Whistles, eeks and squeaks and pit stop rests in between ee aws and lip quavering brrrs are anything but cute folks.
Let's be honest here...it's snoring!
Plain and simple, not too attractive noise that rocks and rolls the house, shakes the bed and rattles your bones!
It's serious stuff. People can stop breathing. You can lose loved ones - from your sleeping quarters and your life. (Isn't there a box under the 'cause' heading you can check nowadays when filing for divorce that says, "Irreconcilable Snoring?")
Can you remember a time when you thought, "Oh, it's not me. It's only the other person who makes those silly sounds?" And now, here you find yourself facing the stone cold, hard truth....It's you!!!!!!!
You've become the in-residence noisemaker.
How could that have happened? You've been dainty all your life and now you are in the buzz saw category without so much as a by-your-leave from the Gods!
Here's what you've come to in life:
The only saving grace is that you have someone who loves you who thinks you're making 'sleepy noises'...and you're cute.
Saturday, December 16, 2006
Quote For The Day
"Your neighbor's vision is as true for him as your own vision is true for you."
Miguel de Unamuno, writer and philosopher (1864-1936)
Miguel de Unamuno, writer and philosopher (1864-1936)
Thursday, December 14, 2006
Wednesday, December 13, 2006
Quote For The Day
"If you have the same ideas as everybody else but have them one week earlier than everyone else then you will be hailed as a visionary. But if you have them five years earlier you will be named a lunatic."
Barry Jones, politician, author (1932- )
Barry Jones, politician, author (1932- )
Tuesday, December 12, 2006
Quote For The Day
“The minute I heard my first love story I started looking for you, not knowing how blind that was. Lovers don't finally meet somewhere. They're in each other all along.”
Jalal ad-Din Rumi (Persian Poet and Mystic, 1207-1273)
Jalal ad-Din Rumi (Persian Poet and Mystic, 1207-1273)
Monday, December 11, 2006
Live And In Person For A Limited Run...
by
Florence Ondré
There is a stark beauty to winter. Leaves all gone and trees go into their second act ballet, leaning into winds, gracefully bending to and fro, arms outlined like sculptured, dark shapes shifting in the flame of stark sunsets. Nature's panoramic play of light and dark against vivacious hues is made denser by the crispness in the air.
I love winter trees with their arms uplifted to show us what is hidden for most of the year by their Spring blossoms, Summer greenery and Fall freckles of color. Winter is where even the white of snowfall defines rather than masks the lovely limbs in statuesque poses of play and peace. At no other time during the year do these stately beings have this opportunity to display unfettered, their artistic curves and lines. Even the sun conspires to take part in their theatre by backlighting to illumine to best advantage winter's show of shows.
This reality show is where we may view the pure, unclad form of these givers of life, shelter and shade without commercials.
Bundle up. No tickets needed. Come to the cabaret!
Florence Ondré
There is a stark beauty to winter. Leaves all gone and trees go into their second act ballet, leaning into winds, gracefully bending to and fro, arms outlined like sculptured, dark shapes shifting in the flame of stark sunsets. Nature's panoramic play of light and dark against vivacious hues is made denser by the crispness in the air.
I love winter trees with their arms uplifted to show us what is hidden for most of the year by their Spring blossoms, Summer greenery and Fall freckles of color. Winter is where even the white of snowfall defines rather than masks the lovely limbs in statuesque poses of play and peace. At no other time during the year do these stately beings have this opportunity to display unfettered, their artistic curves and lines. Even the sun conspires to take part in their theatre by backlighting to illumine to best advantage winter's show of shows.
This reality show is where we may view the pure, unclad form of these givers of life, shelter and shade without commercials.
Bundle up. No tickets needed. Come to the cabaret!
Quote For The Day
"Kindness is in our power, even when fondness is not."
Samuel Johnson,lexicographer (1709-1784)
Samuel Johnson,lexicographer (1709-1784)
Wednesday, December 06, 2006
Quote For The Day
"Humor may be defined as the kindly contemplation of the incongruities of life, and the artistic expression thereof."
Stephen Leacock, economist and humorist (1869-1944)
Stephen Leacock, economist and humorist (1869-1944)
Latest Hot News On The Wire!
Flatulence Forces Plane to Land
By Associated Press
December 6, 2006, 7:46 AM EST
NASHVILLE, Tenn. -- An American Airlines flight was forced to make an emergency landing Monday morning after a passenger lit a match to disguise the scent of flatulence, authorities said.
The Dallas-bound flight was diverted to Nashville after several passengers reported smelling burning sulfur from the matches, said Lynne Lowrance, spokeswoman for the Nashville International Airport Authority. All 99 passengers and five crew members were taken off and screened while the plane was searched and luggage was screened.
The FBI questioned a passenger who admitted she struck the matches in an attempt to conceal a "body odor," Lowrance said. She had an unspecified medical condition, authorities said.
"It's humorous in a way but you feel sorry for the individual, as well," she said. "It's unusual that someone would go to those measures to cover it up."
The flight took off again, but the woman was not allowed back on the plane. The woman, who was not identified, was not charged in the incident.
Copyright 2006 Newsday Inc.
By Associated Press
December 6, 2006, 7:46 AM EST
NASHVILLE, Tenn. -- An American Airlines flight was forced to make an emergency landing Monday morning after a passenger lit a match to disguise the scent of flatulence, authorities said.
The Dallas-bound flight was diverted to Nashville after several passengers reported smelling burning sulfur from the matches, said Lynne Lowrance, spokeswoman for the Nashville International Airport Authority. All 99 passengers and five crew members were taken off and screened while the plane was searched and luggage was screened.
The FBI questioned a passenger who admitted she struck the matches in an attempt to conceal a "body odor," Lowrance said. She had an unspecified medical condition, authorities said.
"It's humorous in a way but you feel sorry for the individual, as well," she said. "It's unusual that someone would go to those measures to cover it up."
The flight took off again, but the woman was not allowed back on the plane. The woman, who was not identified, was not charged in the incident.
Copyright 2006 Newsday Inc.
Tuesday, December 05, 2006
Thursday, November 30, 2006
Quote For The Day
"I will not die an unlived life
I will not live in fear of falling
Or of catching fire
I choose to inhabit my days
To allow my living to open me
Making me less afraid
More accessible
To loosen my heart
So that it becomes a wing, a torch, a promise
I choose to risk my significance.
To live so that that which comes to me as seed
Goes to the next as blossom
And that which comes to me as blossom
Goes on as fruit."
Dawna Markova
I will not live in fear of falling
Or of catching fire
I choose to inhabit my days
To allow my living to open me
Making me less afraid
More accessible
To loosen my heart
So that it becomes a wing, a torch, a promise
I choose to risk my significance.
To live so that that which comes to me as seed
Goes to the next as blossom
And that which comes to me as blossom
Goes on as fruit."
Dawna Markova
The Gratitude Pool
T-Day behind us and gratitude for leftovers still facing us from the fridge, I'm grateful for each morsel because I don't have to cook or think about cooking -or shopping. I'm just plain grateful to have food and a fridge-period.
With far too many people in the world being without either, it is a blessing to have whatever there is on hand. Having family and good friends to share it with is the real meaning of abundance.
My mother used to tell us as kids, that we should eat everything on our plates because there were kids in Europe who were starving. I did what I was told, brussel sprouts be hanged, but never could figure out how it would help those kids overseas if I downed the green monsters on my plate here in America.
What I got way later on was that was her way of saying, "Be grateful you have something to eat."
I get it Mom. I'm grateful for what I have and, sorry folks, I still don't like brussel sprouts.
With far too many people in the world being without either, it is a blessing to have whatever there is on hand. Having family and good friends to share it with is the real meaning of abundance.
My mother used to tell us as kids, that we should eat everything on our plates because there were kids in Europe who were starving. I did what I was told, brussel sprouts be hanged, but never could figure out how it would help those kids overseas if I downed the green monsters on my plate here in America.
What I got way later on was that was her way of saying, "Be grateful you have something to eat."
I get it Mom. I'm grateful for what I have and, sorry folks, I still don't like brussel sprouts.
Wednesday, November 29, 2006
Sisters
This was just sent to me from my dear friend and sister in Light, Monica, from Hawaii:
A young wife sat on a sofa on a hot humid day, drinking iced tea and visiting with her Mother. As they talked about life, about marriage, about the responsibilities of life and the obligations of adulthood, the Mother clinked the ice cubes in her glass thoughtfully and turned a clear,sober glance upon her daughter. "Don't forget your Sisters," she advised, swirling the tea leaves to the bottom of her glass. "They'll be more important as you get older. No matter how much you love your husband, no matter how much you love the children you may have, you are still going to need Sisters. Remember to go places with them now and then; do things with them. Remember that 'Sisters' means ALL the women... your girlfriends, your daughters, and all your other women relatives too. You'll need other women- Women always do."
'What a funny piece of advice!' the young woman thought. 'Haven't I just gotten married? Haven't I just joined the couple-world? I'm now a married woman, for goodness sake! A grown-up! Surely my husband and the family we may start will be all I need to make my life worthwhile!' But she listened to her Mother. She kept contact with her Sisters and made more women friends each year. As the years tumbled by, one after another, she gradually came to understand that her Mom really knew what she was talking about: As time and nature work their changes and their mysteries upon a woman, Sisters are the mainstays of her life.
After more than 70 years of living in this world, here is what I've learned:
Time passes.
Life happens.
Distance separates.
Children grow up.
Love waxes and wanes.
Men may not do what they're supposed to do.
Hearts break.
Parents die.
Colleagues forget favors.
Careers end
BUT.........
Sisters are there, no matter how much time and how many miles are between you.
A girl friend is never farther away than needing her can reach.
When you have to walk that lonesome valley and you have to walk it by yourself, the women in your life will be on the valley's rim, cheering you on, praying for you, pulling for you, intervening on your behalf, and waiting with open arms at the valley's end.
Sometimes, they will even break the rules and walk beside you.
Or come in and carry you out.
Girlfriends, daughters, granddaughters, daughters-in-law, sisters, sisters-in-law, mothers, grandmothers, aunties, nieces, cousins, and extended family, all bless our life!
The world wouldn't be the same without women, and neither would I.
When we began this adventure called womanhood; we had no idea of the incredible joys or sorrows that lay ahead. Nor did we know how much we would need each other.
Every day, we need each other still.
Thanks, Monica, and thanks to the one who wrote this in the first place.
Though I may have read or heard this before, it struck me today that this is a truth worth the reminding. I stopped and thought of all the women in my life who have touched me in profound ways and how whether they are here next to me right now or not, they are still as important to me as the day we met.
I just had the joy of hosting an engagement party for my son, Ron, and his lovely wife to be, Christine, and the families of every side were gathered from all corners of time. Though my own sister, Dorothy, was not able to be present physically, she was well represented by her daughter, my beautiful niece, Stephanie. Present were my current women friends from my writers' circle, from my theatre friends; women from families of past marriages, from new young women circles of my wonderful, loving daughters-in-law and the accompanying sweet blessings of mothers, aunts, nieces, in-laws and sisters who come to grace my life through their families.
To introduce Marilyn, my sister-in-law from my first marriage who I hadn't seen in years, as simply 'my sister-in-law' was as natural as breathing and though time had passed and we'd both raised our respective families apart, the current of connectedness; positive energy flowed as strongly and unitedly as if we'd never been apart. No title of 'former sister in law was needed.' Divorce had not diminished sisterhood. I knew my current friends and long time friends would like her and she them. I saw them all as getting along in a tapestry of fine, silken threads weaving even stronger in the fabric of Sisters.
And so it is with the women, sisters, friends from all parts of my life. No matter how far apart we may be in geographics and time, we are always close in heart.
We meet, call or e-mail and pick up as if there were never a skip in the long playing record of our togetherness. We remember the good, the strong suits, the getting through, and the survival of the essence of us all; love. Appreciation seems to take on a deeper lustre in the knowledge that there is this harmonious unity woven into our very genes. We do cross the boundaries to go into the fire for each other in more ways than we can think of; sometimes with a shout of defiance and sometimes in the whisper of a prayer. It is in the remembrance of the heart where we are etched forever for each other.
I know I am the better for every touch and the circle which has room for all is without end.
A young wife sat on a sofa on a hot humid day, drinking iced tea and visiting with her Mother. As they talked about life, about marriage, about the responsibilities of life and the obligations of adulthood, the Mother clinked the ice cubes in her glass thoughtfully and turned a clear,sober glance upon her daughter. "Don't forget your Sisters," she advised, swirling the tea leaves to the bottom of her glass. "They'll be more important as you get older. No matter how much you love your husband, no matter how much you love the children you may have, you are still going to need Sisters. Remember to go places with them now and then; do things with them. Remember that 'Sisters' means ALL the women... your girlfriends, your daughters, and all your other women relatives too. You'll need other women- Women always do."
'What a funny piece of advice!' the young woman thought. 'Haven't I just gotten married? Haven't I just joined the couple-world? I'm now a married woman, for goodness sake! A grown-up! Surely my husband and the family we may start will be all I need to make my life worthwhile!' But she listened to her Mother. She kept contact with her Sisters and made more women friends each year. As the years tumbled by, one after another, she gradually came to understand that her Mom really knew what she was talking about: As time and nature work their changes and their mysteries upon a woman, Sisters are the mainstays of her life.
After more than 70 years of living in this world, here is what I've learned:
Time passes.
Life happens.
Distance separates.
Children grow up.
Love waxes and wanes.
Men may not do what they're supposed to do.
Hearts break.
Parents die.
Colleagues forget favors.
Careers end
BUT.........
Sisters are there, no matter how much time and how many miles are between you.
A girl friend is never farther away than needing her can reach.
When you have to walk that lonesome valley and you have to walk it by yourself, the women in your life will be on the valley's rim, cheering you on, praying for you, pulling for you, intervening on your behalf, and waiting with open arms at the valley's end.
Sometimes, they will even break the rules and walk beside you.
Or come in and carry you out.
Girlfriends, daughters, granddaughters, daughters-in-law, sisters, sisters-in-law, mothers, grandmothers, aunties, nieces, cousins, and extended family, all bless our life!
The world wouldn't be the same without women, and neither would I.
When we began this adventure called womanhood; we had no idea of the incredible joys or sorrows that lay ahead. Nor did we know how much we would need each other.
Every day, we need each other still.
Thanks, Monica, and thanks to the one who wrote this in the first place.
Though I may have read or heard this before, it struck me today that this is a truth worth the reminding. I stopped and thought of all the women in my life who have touched me in profound ways and how whether they are here next to me right now or not, they are still as important to me as the day we met.
I just had the joy of hosting an engagement party for my son, Ron, and his lovely wife to be, Christine, and the families of every side were gathered from all corners of time. Though my own sister, Dorothy, was not able to be present physically, she was well represented by her daughter, my beautiful niece, Stephanie. Present were my current women friends from my writers' circle, from my theatre friends; women from families of past marriages, from new young women circles of my wonderful, loving daughters-in-law and the accompanying sweet blessings of mothers, aunts, nieces, in-laws and sisters who come to grace my life through their families.
To introduce Marilyn, my sister-in-law from my first marriage who I hadn't seen in years, as simply 'my sister-in-law' was as natural as breathing and though time had passed and we'd both raised our respective families apart, the current of connectedness; positive energy flowed as strongly and unitedly as if we'd never been apart. No title of 'former sister in law was needed.' Divorce had not diminished sisterhood. I knew my current friends and long time friends would like her and she them. I saw them all as getting along in a tapestry of fine, silken threads weaving even stronger in the fabric of Sisters.
And so it is with the women, sisters, friends from all parts of my life. No matter how far apart we may be in geographics and time, we are always close in heart.
We meet, call or e-mail and pick up as if there were never a skip in the long playing record of our togetherness. We remember the good, the strong suits, the getting through, and the survival of the essence of us all; love. Appreciation seems to take on a deeper lustre in the knowledge that there is this harmonious unity woven into our very genes. We do cross the boundaries to go into the fire for each other in more ways than we can think of; sometimes with a shout of defiance and sometimes in the whisper of a prayer. It is in the remembrance of the heart where we are etched forever for each other.
I know I am the better for every touch and the circle which has room for all is without end.
Tuesday, November 28, 2006
Cupcake For Breakfast
by Florence Ondré
I’m having a cupcake for breakfast
Something not usually seen
No, it’s not like granola
All oats rolling ovah
It’s pretty and makes me feel keen
I could have had muffins or danish
But this morning was waking quite strangish
'Let’s make a move bold
If a breakfast is cold’
I told my mind’s wandering scene
On travels through fridge and through pantry
I thought, 'let’s rise up like Elmer Gantry'
Resurrect old as new
Without thinking it through
Try religion none others have been’
No porridge, no eggs to be scrambled
In parade, myriad choices do ramble
Q’s, like sisters and bothers,
Who goes where with others?
Pose old menu options to preen
No, there’s no meat; no protein to speak of
Unless you are counting the milk
Or the eggs in the mixture
Which could make this a fixture
On a solo sweet breakfast serene
Yes, I’m having a cupcake for breakfast
Something not usually done
But I needed some fun
Safe nutritious begone
Get my crown folks, I feel like a queen!
I’m having a cupcake for breakfast
Something not usually seen
No, it’s not like granola
All oats rolling ovah
It’s pretty and makes me feel keen
I could have had muffins or danish
But this morning was waking quite strangish
'Let’s make a move bold
If a breakfast is cold’
I told my mind’s wandering scene
On travels through fridge and through pantry
I thought, 'let’s rise up like Elmer Gantry'
Resurrect old as new
Without thinking it through
Try religion none others have been’
No porridge, no eggs to be scrambled
In parade, myriad choices do ramble
Q’s, like sisters and bothers,
Who goes where with others?
Pose old menu options to preen
No, there’s no meat; no protein to speak of
Unless you are counting the milk
Or the eggs in the mixture
Which could make this a fixture
On a solo sweet breakfast serene
Yes, I’m having a cupcake for breakfast
Something not usually done
But I needed some fun
Safe nutritious begone
Get my crown folks, I feel like a queen!
Quote For The Day
"Kindness is more important than wisdom, and the recognition of this is the beginning of wisdom."
Theodore Rubin, psychiatrist and writer (1923- )
Theodore Rubin, psychiatrist and writer (1923- )
Friday, November 24, 2006
Quote For The Day
"Be like the bird, who halting in his flight / On limb too slight, / Feels it give way beneath him, yet sings / Knowing he has wings."
Victor Hugo,writer (1802-1885)
Victor Hugo,writer (1802-1885)
It's A Bird; It's A Plane...
Can you see them both sky borne; flying high?
Sometimes when we feel small, we're actually larger than our own image of ourselves.
by Florence Ondré
Photo by Thomas Freeman
The Gratitude Pool: A Grain Of Gratitude
Happy Thanksgiving to you!
May you each and all find one thing for which to be grateful. For on the worst of days, one small bit of gratitude can lift you higher than you can imagine; ease the largest pain and calm the most riotous mind.
Such is the power of a grain of gratitude.
Blessings In Light and Love,
Florence Ondré
May you each and all find one thing for which to be grateful. For on the worst of days, one small bit of gratitude can lift you higher than you can imagine; ease the largest pain and calm the most riotous mind.
Such is the power of a grain of gratitude.
Blessings In Light and Love,
Florence Ondré
Tuesday, November 21, 2006
Quote For The Day
“Dreams pass into the reality of action. From the actions stems the dream again; and this interdependence produces the highest form of living.”
Anais Nin, writer (1903-1977)
Anais Nin, writer (1903-1977)
Monday, November 20, 2006
Quote For The Day
"You can't do anything about the length of your life, but you can do something about its width and depth."
H.L. Mencken, writer, editor, and critic (1880-1956)
H.L. Mencken, writer, editor, and critic (1880-1956)
The Gratitude Pool: Ode To Health Helpers
by Florence Ondré
I'm grateful for homeopathic medicine and herbal remedies and all those who put the time into making these goodies for us all to have better health on a daily basis.
It's been the flu achoo show here and these little pez dispensers from the health food store ameliorated the worst symptoms of that drama.
The alternative to cough syrup with alcohol and whoppingingly expensive prescriptions drugs that send you over the moon with side effects is a gentler way to get through the whole change of season mess.
Now don't get me wrong, when I'm feeling crappy, there's nothing more than a nice trip over any moon. I'd rather be anywhere but actually consciously in the flu zone.
"Take me out!" my brain tells my body. "Drugs...yeah, that's what I need. Get me out of this achey pain and away from its friends, attractive nasal drip and assorted other grimey activities that make you promise God, and whoever is up there, your first born or whatever else it'll take to seal the heal; negotiate giving up any bad habit and three of your best friends for a quick cure; and beg on bended knee to enter the witness protection program or, better yet, shed your Earthsuit permanenty.
Yeah, that's a real head trip and it stays exactly there for me... inside my cranium, swollen with aliens; little germs gathering like Lord Of The Rings, underground armies, rattling their head aching sabers and scraping my ear canals raw with their arrgghh shrieking.
Then somewhere in the cacaphony, a blessed being of calm gives respite. A ray of light, coherence, creeps into the forefront of inner riot and, in whispers, reminds me of these magic words to win this siege....
"Drink lots of water, keep up your vitamins, take your homeopathics and rest."
My 'I-could-have-had-a V-eight' moment passes quickly into a hallelujah chorus of comprehension. I head toward the medicine chest, grab my little, magic vials, tylenol for the fever and a tall glass of agua and head to my pallet of pillows and soft sheets.
For three days, I'm burrowed under comforters as I allow the healing to take it's natural course....in a gentler more flexible way and time.
Thanks people who helped make the journey easier. I may never meet you, yet I am grateful for your artisty in the field of complementary medicine. You make my life and that of others more healthfull .
I'm grateful for homeopathic medicine and herbal remedies and all those who put the time into making these goodies for us all to have better health on a daily basis.
It's been the flu achoo show here and these little pez dispensers from the health food store ameliorated the worst symptoms of that drama.
The alternative to cough syrup with alcohol and whoppingingly expensive prescriptions drugs that send you over the moon with side effects is a gentler way to get through the whole change of season mess.
Now don't get me wrong, when I'm feeling crappy, there's nothing more than a nice trip over any moon. I'd rather be anywhere but actually consciously in the flu zone.
"Take me out!" my brain tells my body. "Drugs...yeah, that's what I need. Get me out of this achey pain and away from its friends, attractive nasal drip and assorted other grimey activities that make you promise God, and whoever is up there, your first born or whatever else it'll take to seal the heal; negotiate giving up any bad habit and three of your best friends for a quick cure; and beg on bended knee to enter the witness protection program or, better yet, shed your Earthsuit permanenty.
Yeah, that's a real head trip and it stays exactly there for me... inside my cranium, swollen with aliens; little germs gathering like Lord Of The Rings, underground armies, rattling their head aching sabers and scraping my ear canals raw with their arrgghh shrieking.
Then somewhere in the cacaphony, a blessed being of calm gives respite. A ray of light, coherence, creeps into the forefront of inner riot and, in whispers, reminds me of these magic words to win this siege....
"Drink lots of water, keep up your vitamins, take your homeopathics and rest."
My 'I-could-have-had-a V-eight' moment passes quickly into a hallelujah chorus of comprehension. I head toward the medicine chest, grab my little, magic vials, tylenol for the fever and a tall glass of agua and head to my pallet of pillows and soft sheets.
For three days, I'm burrowed under comforters as I allow the healing to take it's natural course....in a gentler more flexible way and time.
Thanks people who helped make the journey easier. I may never meet you, yet I am grateful for your artisty in the field of complementary medicine. You make my life and that of others more healthfull .
Saturday, November 18, 2006
Quote For The Day
"Words ought to be a little wild, for they are the assault of thoughts on the unthinking."
John Maynard Keynes, economist (1883-1946)
John Maynard Keynes, economist (1883-1946)
H2-OH No You Didn't
As seen just outside the Ski and Snowboard Expo at Qwest Field Arena.
Hey asshole, if your car mindless behemoth is too big for a parking spot that is appropriately sized for the rest of humanity, this might not be the best way to “compensate.”
From Florence: Thanks Courtney at Seattlest for another whopping WTF.
And may I add that, to my knowledge, flipping of the earth’s axis hasn’t yet occurred (tho many sci fi writers have described this end of the world scenario where a hummer - of any kind - would be a handy thing to have for survival in the frozen wasteland) nor have we become the outback of anywhere.
I know the tough urban streets may feel like a fight for life during rush hour traffic but if I see you out there in your big ass monster machine, hogging the pavement, I’m bound to flash you the “What Could You Be Thinking?” card. (It says WTF on the flipside.)
I envision a phalanx of motorized wheelchair-bound people slapping chains on this sucker and hauling the hunk o junk to the dump while gaily humming, “We Shall Overcome or Aint No Mountain High Enough.”
Imagine the lyrical look of duh on the selfish egomaniac owner’s face when he comes out to find the reflection of his blank look mirroring up from the concrete. “Now where did I park my johnson-oops-expression of my lack of self-oops-roadhog-oops-vehicle?”
Well, buddy, when you find it (if you do), haul on up to the north forty. The fields need a plowin, the tractor’s broke and the horse won’t pull.
Now there’s a use for an ass.
http://www.seatlest.com/archives/2006/11/17/h2oh_no_you_didnt.php
Friday, November 17, 2006
How To Weigh Yourself Correctly
This just sent to me from Marilyn:
Weighing yourself to get the most accurate results
I can't believe I was doing it wrong all these years!
We must get the word out!
Thanks, Marilyn and thanks Joe for your great sense of humor. Joe-ks.com
Weighing yourself to get the most accurate results
I can't believe I was doing it wrong all these years!
We must get the word out!
Thanks, Marilyn and thanks Joe for your great sense of humor. Joe-ks.com
Quote For The Day
“All envy would be extinguished, if it were universally known that there are none to be envied.”
Samuel Johnson, lexicographer (1709-1784)
Samuel Johnson, lexicographer (1709-1784)
Pooh, Pooh...Who's Got The Flu?
by
Florence Ondré
Oh the ache
Of bones that quake
The stomach grip
The reeling ship
Of balance gone awry
Is that the floor or that the sky?
Woozy and no appetite
Have zero oomph to talk or fight
Ears all stuffed and nose is too
Eyes too teary with each achoo
How could this be
It still is Fall
Warm, not nearly Winter's call
Sunny like a late Spring day
I should be out is what I say
Denial sets anew each morn
When I arise to face the dawn
Thinking ah it's gone away
Within minutes, it's back to stay
Another day with plans all ruined
When will it leave? Just stay tuned!
Florence Ondré
Oh the ache
Of bones that quake
The stomach grip
The reeling ship
Of balance gone awry
Is that the floor or that the sky?
Woozy and no appetite
Have zero oomph to talk or fight
Ears all stuffed and nose is too
Eyes too teary with each achoo
How could this be
It still is Fall
Warm, not nearly Winter's call
Sunny like a late Spring day
I should be out is what I say
Denial sets anew each morn
When I arise to face the dawn
Thinking ah it's gone away
Within minutes, it's back to stay
Another day with plans all ruined
When will it leave? Just stay tuned!
Wednesday, November 15, 2006
The Gratitude Pool
To all the good hearted people who extend warmth of heart and generosity of spirit, I send you the light of gratitude. You uplift us all with your positive energy. Each gesture, smile, hug, or helping hand touches the world.
Blessings.
In Light and Love,
Florence
Blessings.
In Light and Love,
Florence
Quote For The Day
"I will not play at tug o' war. / I'd rather play at hug o' war, / Where everyone hugs instead of tugs."
Shel Silverstein, writer (1930-1999)
Shel Silverstein, writer (1930-1999)
Tuesday, November 14, 2006
Quote For The Day
"No man ever steps in the same river twice, for it's not the same river and he's not the same man."
Heraclitus, philosopher (c. 540-470 BCE)
Heraclitus, philosopher (c. 540-470 BCE)
Monday, November 13, 2006
Quote For The Day
"There is not such a cradle of democracy upon the earth as the Free Public Library, this republic of letters, where neither rank, office, nor wealth receives the slightest consideration."
Andrew Carnegie, industrialist (1835-1919)
Andrew Carnegie, industrialist (1835-1919)
Friday, November 10, 2006
The Great Dessert Hunt
by
Florence Ondré
On the trail of great desserts
A love a goodies never hurts
An eye for color, textures too
Will get you through a nosh or two
To find the pastries, cakes and pies
Which fill one with delighted sighs
Of Ummmm and Yumm and oh that's good
Each cookie tasting as it should
Sweet and crunchy; soft with flavor
Bite sized chocolate to savor
Marzipan, pistachio
Lemon meringue as frothed as snow
Red Velvet topped with gooed ganache
Shortbread iced with swirled panache
Mousse mango and raspberry
Tinge the palate merrily
Pumpkin cake with frost cream cheese
Drizzled caramel to please
Passion fruit on densest fudge
Fills the heart and gives the nudge
To sample further Danish fruit
And travel on quite resolute
In finding treats unique divine
Mouth watering and so sublime
Ginger Pear Tartlette
A taste no one will soon forget
Bananas Foster, S’mores Pie, Gingerbread
Cinnamon Biscotti or Orange Scones instead
Cupcakes that look like garden flowers
Reel me in with magic powers
Creme Brulees and Cheesecake slices
Life's pure pleasurable vices
Cannoli cream with citrus hints
Plates of pretty pastel mints
I'll taste them all if I am able
To share with friends at party table
Which brings me joy to see each smile
At the power dessert has to beguile
To warm, enliven, every heart
When served buffet style not ala carte
It's my job, the best to find
Someone's got to do it, I don't mind
So off I go to make my way
On the great dessert hunt this very day.
Florence Ondré
On the trail of great desserts
A love a goodies never hurts
An eye for color, textures too
Will get you through a nosh or two
To find the pastries, cakes and pies
Which fill one with delighted sighs
Of Ummmm and Yumm and oh that's good
Each cookie tasting as it should
Sweet and crunchy; soft with flavor
Bite sized chocolate to savor
Marzipan, pistachio
Lemon meringue as frothed as snow
Red Velvet topped with gooed ganache
Shortbread iced with swirled panache
Mousse mango and raspberry
Tinge the palate merrily
Pumpkin cake with frost cream cheese
Drizzled caramel to please
Passion fruit on densest fudge
Fills the heart and gives the nudge
To sample further Danish fruit
And travel on quite resolute
In finding treats unique divine
Mouth watering and so sublime
Ginger Pear Tartlette
A taste no one will soon forget
Bananas Foster, S’mores Pie, Gingerbread
Cinnamon Biscotti or Orange Scones instead
Cupcakes that look like garden flowers
Reel me in with magic powers
Creme Brulees and Cheesecake slices
Life's pure pleasurable vices
Cannoli cream with citrus hints
Plates of pretty pastel mints
I'll taste them all if I am able
To share with friends at party table
Which brings me joy to see each smile
At the power dessert has to beguile
To warm, enliven, every heart
When served buffet style not ala carte
It's my job, the best to find
Someone's got to do it, I don't mind
So off I go to make my way
On the great dessert hunt this very day.
Quote For The Day
"Seven blunders of the world that lead to violence: wealth without work,
pleasure without conscience, knowledge without character, commerce without morality, science without humanity, worship without sacrifice, politics without principle."
Mahatma Gandhi
pleasure without conscience, knowledge without character, commerce without morality, science without humanity, worship without sacrifice, politics without principle."
Mahatma Gandhi
Thursday, November 09, 2006
Quote For The Day
“Some people change when they see the light, others when they feel the heat.”
Caroline Schoeder
Caroline Schoeder
The Gratitude Pool
I’m grateful for the beauty of seasons and eyes to see Mother Nature’s fit-for-museum-artstry; her splashes of color and ability to change and make infinite art of of our surroundings is a blessing that keeps on giving us unique visions and perception shift opportunities for the eye and ear.
Thanks Mother Nature for your moveable feast for the soul.
Thanks Mother Nature for your moveable feast for the soul.
Wednesday, November 08, 2006
Quote For The Day
"When we have the courage to speak out -- to break our silence -- we inspire the rest of the "moderates" in our communities to speak up and voice their views."
Sharon Schuster
Sharon Schuster
A For Attitude!
(This sent to me by my sister in law, Joyce, who is one of women's finest, courageous souls, having survived and triumphed over breast cancer.
Thanks Joyce for your bright, indominatable, beautiful spirit!)
There once was a woman who woke up one morning, looked in the mirror, and noticed she had only three hairs on her head.
"Well," she said, "I think I'll braid my hair today."
So she did and she had a wonderful day.
The next day she woke up, looked in the mirror and saw that she had only two hairs on her head.
"Hmmm, " she said, "I think I'll part my hair down the middle today."
So she did and she had a grand day.
The next day she woke up, looked in the mirror and noticed that she had only one hair on her head.
"Well," she said, "Today I'm going to wear my hair in a pony tail."
So she did and she had a fun day.
The next day she woke up, looked in the mirror and noticed that there wasn't a single hair on her head.
"YEA!" she exclaimed, "I don't have to fix my hair today!"
Attitude is everything.
Don't you love having choices.
Have A Day!
Thanks Joyce for your bright, indominatable, beautiful spirit!)
There once was a woman who woke up one morning, looked in the mirror, and noticed she had only three hairs on her head.
"Well," she said, "I think I'll braid my hair today."
So she did and she had a wonderful day.
The next day she woke up, looked in the mirror and saw that she had only two hairs on her head.
"Hmmm, " she said, "I think I'll part my hair down the middle today."
So she did and she had a grand day.
The next day she woke up, looked in the mirror and noticed that she had only one hair on her head.
"Well," she said, "Today I'm going to wear my hair in a pony tail."
So she did and she had a fun day.
The next day she woke up, looked in the mirror and noticed that there wasn't a single hair on her head.
"YEA!" she exclaimed, "I don't have to fix my hair today!"
Attitude is everything.
Don't you love having choices.
Have A Day!
Tuesday, November 07, 2006
Quote For The Day
"People never lie so much as before an election, during a war, or after a hunt."
Otto von Bismarck, statesman (1815-1898)
Otto von Bismarck, statesman (1815-1898)
Monday, November 06, 2006
"Illusion At The Helm"
by
Florence Ondré
I’m organized, I’ve rarely failed
In challenges I have prevailed
And though I’ve sometimes griped and railed
I’ve rarely ever whined or wailed
It’s more my style to be detailed
And grasp the facts that life’s entailed
To bring conclusions unassailed
And whether hardy, honed or hailed
To each task I’ve never paled
Yet now my road is hill and daled
All my efforts cut, curtailed
Highest sight is lowly brailled
Former days all story taled
For presently I find I’m veiled
Not much left to be regaled
Ah, pure past, iced image ailed
When accomplishment was availed
Years are vanished, in minutes frailed
That shiny ship has swiftly sailed!
Florence Ondré
I’m organized, I’ve rarely failed
In challenges I have prevailed
And though I’ve sometimes griped and railed
I’ve rarely ever whined or wailed
It’s more my style to be detailed
And grasp the facts that life’s entailed
To bring conclusions unassailed
And whether hardy, honed or hailed
To each task I’ve never paled
Yet now my road is hill and daled
All my efforts cut, curtailed
Highest sight is lowly brailled
Former days all story taled
For presently I find I’m veiled
Not much left to be regaled
Ah, pure past, iced image ailed
When accomplishment was availed
Years are vanished, in minutes frailed
That shiny ship has swiftly sailed!
Quote For The Day
"Politics, n. Strife of interests masquerading as a contest of principles."
Ambrose Bierce, writer (1842-1914)
Ambrose Bierce, writer (1842-1914)
Friday, November 03, 2006
The Power Of Music and Friends
Remember the phrase, "been down so long it looks like up to me?"
Well, on that long elevator ride up from the depth of the doldrums, there are several tools for uplifting which rival the rising contrivance Otis made available to us dwellers of many levels.
Consumed with whatever present challenge currently puts our lights out; makes us feel like there's not much bright in tomorrow, feeds the mistaken, gerbil-cage-spinning thoughts that there will never be any way to rise through to some distant above.
Life after chemical contamination, added to physical and daily life challenges has constructed a new basement in the house of me.
It's no view from a bridge, I can tell you. Waist level looks like the Himalayas and a knee high breeze is enough to fell me.
Bed and couch grab me; suck me in with a siren call as the energy of coping flails and flags.
This is coming from a person who can find the proverbial pony in a room full of horse pocky or a ray of sunshine in a gunmetal grey overhead.
The season of change has lingered long and life’s menu is crowded with less than palate pleasing entrees of passings, crises, catastrophes, calamities, leaderless leadership, hell for health and weird weather.
A new book of grief is being written in the Akashic records like acid etchings on our hearts.
And yet when I can move myself off flattened to floor to peek in my toolkit, the lamp of hope glimmers, however dimming, enough to shed light on the bottom of the bag for me to see a friend or two, hear music, or glimpse an Angel waiting patiently for its moment to be of service.
Last night was one of those rare eves of enlightened moments, strung together like sparkling precious gems in moonlight of a black velvet sky.
My partner and I pushed past pain and frustration to get out the door to go meet our friend, Heide, in the city for dinner before seeing out of town friends perform a recital of classical music for piano and violin.
We were like trains converging from different tracks; she coming from work in Manhattan and us schlepping in hours of traffic from the suburbs to the city, yet all of us thinking a sigh, unbeknownst to the others, "I can get through it all. At least at the end of this day there will be lovely, soothing music."
Concerned with the pain of sitting too long with a spinal disc out of alignment, Tom was thinking an added, "At least there will be Thai food."
He dropped me off at the restaurant, a pleasant, simple aromatic space. Good sign. If you can smell the cooking pulling you in, disembodied on the waves of fragrant spices, you generally have a good inkling that there will be some pleasure, however fleeting, ameliorating the hammer on the anvil.
Heide was waiting, already at a table laid out with menus, water and welcoming energy.
Tom drove off to find his precious on-street parking to which his Angels guide him, mostly with a few turns around the block to whet his appetite for the reward of perfect space for patience.
It didn't take long for us to dive into hugs, catching up, in depth conversation that only comes with the deep connection of ageless family-of-choice; and Lemongrass Chicken, Tamarind Duck, Massaman Curry, fresh Basil Rolls and Curry Puff Pastry. Over aromatic tea, spirits lifted out of a seemingly bottomless basement of depression to the first and second floors of rays of relief.
Then off we cabbed to the concert.
My excitement at seeing and hearing the dear friends, who years ago came into my life through another mutual friend to accompany my singing at her San Francisco wedding, mounted as we entered the hall.
Added to that was my child-like delight at finally introducing them to my beloved, Tom, and sister in light, Heide, who only knew the pianist, Nancy, through G-Mail, our years-old, online circle of gratitude.
They'd come to know one another in the unique focus on expressing thanks each day and yet had not met face to face. I was giggly with glee at the prospect of connecting the dots of these Angels in my life.
Up the cubicle-with-floor-indicators rose another level.
Next there was meeting concert pianist, Gila Goldstein, President of the New York chapter of the American Liszt Society, who was bringing us all together in the completion of her task of arranging this concert.
Warm in e-mail and welcoming in person, she shone with a lilting light of her own as she introduced the evening's program.
Another half floor fell away with a glide.
In the next moment, there were my friends, suited and soft velvet, glammed up, sharing center stage only feet in front of me after so many years.
I could barely contain my elation.
“How could she be more glamorous or he sweeter faced with the passage of time?" I thought as she adjusted her seat, poised her hands over the ebony and ivory keys and he lifted bow to string for their opening volley of an earfest of magical proportions.
It took me practically the entire first selection to get through the joy and awe radiating through me on the round robin of musical notes and words spinning round my head, “These are my friends making this magnificent music!”
Glancing at Heide and Tom gave me smiling confirmation that they were well on the enjoyment elevator.
I gave myself over completely to the sensuous sounds of the rhythms, chords and melodious march of the music.
Jose Cueto, making a single, shaped box of wood sound like several sets of sensational strings and Nancy Roldan, flying across keys tinkling soft light and roaring waves to carry us to heights we’d forgotten possible; ascended our glass elevator to the Heavens. The César Franck Sonata in A major, allegretto ben moderato, brought us to heart overflowing, eye-brimming tears.
I breathed in the music like air.
Playing together and each taking solo turns, they wound an evening of joyous healing; uplifting energy to float us out of our seats, bodies and earthly cares; transporting us on the alae of the magic of music beyond dreaming.
Ground fell away, roof disappeared and a stunning recognition of profound gifts put to use obscured daily denseness and debilitation.
Aha! I realized in the afterglow of crescendo into echoes and applause to silence; in the hugs and hellos and later gathering at a nearby restaurant, sharing fellowship, food and fun; not only was I not out of tools, the ones in the bottom of the bag were far beyond fine.
I looked around the long table at the happy faces of old friends and new; each haloed in a pool of soft, golden light; 12 of us joined later by 1 to make a brilliant baker’s dozen; trading funny tales; exchanging enjoyment of work; talking music, art, life- and saw Angels on Earth.
Friendship, music, good conversation shared over robust bread dipped in rich olive oil, sparkling water and wine, laughter and the warm energy of being together; gifts shared. With the recognition of these, it is possible to lift out of down in the dark; to be balanced by light which constructs our escalator elite; our stairway to Heaven and metamorphoses a lift into a transcendevator.
With these illuminating implements, in the tiers of the skyscraper of us, it’s not that far from the basement to the penthouse.
On the power of music and the feathers of love of our Earth Angels whom we call friends, it is possible to soar with new wings.
For cds and further information on the concert piano and violin talents of Nancy Roldan and José Miguel Cuerto, please visit www.nancyroldan.com
For further information on the American Liszt Society, please visit http://www.americanlisztsociety.org
For further information on Gila Goldstein, please visit www.gilagoldstein.com
Well, on that long elevator ride up from the depth of the doldrums, there are several tools for uplifting which rival the rising contrivance Otis made available to us dwellers of many levels.
Consumed with whatever present challenge currently puts our lights out; makes us feel like there's not much bright in tomorrow, feeds the mistaken, gerbil-cage-spinning thoughts that there will never be any way to rise through to some distant above.
Life after chemical contamination, added to physical and daily life challenges has constructed a new basement in the house of me.
It's no view from a bridge, I can tell you. Waist level looks like the Himalayas and a knee high breeze is enough to fell me.
Bed and couch grab me; suck me in with a siren call as the energy of coping flails and flags.
This is coming from a person who can find the proverbial pony in a room full of horse pocky or a ray of sunshine in a gunmetal grey overhead.
The season of change has lingered long and life’s menu is crowded with less than palate pleasing entrees of passings, crises, catastrophes, calamities, leaderless leadership, hell for health and weird weather.
A new book of grief is being written in the Akashic records like acid etchings on our hearts.
And yet when I can move myself off flattened to floor to peek in my toolkit, the lamp of hope glimmers, however dimming, enough to shed light on the bottom of the bag for me to see a friend or two, hear music, or glimpse an Angel waiting patiently for its moment to be of service.
Last night was one of those rare eves of enlightened moments, strung together like sparkling precious gems in moonlight of a black velvet sky.
My partner and I pushed past pain and frustration to get out the door to go meet our friend, Heide, in the city for dinner before seeing out of town friends perform a recital of classical music for piano and violin.
We were like trains converging from different tracks; she coming from work in Manhattan and us schlepping in hours of traffic from the suburbs to the city, yet all of us thinking a sigh, unbeknownst to the others, "I can get through it all. At least at the end of this day there will be lovely, soothing music."
Concerned with the pain of sitting too long with a spinal disc out of alignment, Tom was thinking an added, "At least there will be Thai food."
He dropped me off at the restaurant, a pleasant, simple aromatic space. Good sign. If you can smell the cooking pulling you in, disembodied on the waves of fragrant spices, you generally have a good inkling that there will be some pleasure, however fleeting, ameliorating the hammer on the anvil.
Heide was waiting, already at a table laid out with menus, water and welcoming energy.
Tom drove off to find his precious on-street parking to which his Angels guide him, mostly with a few turns around the block to whet his appetite for the reward of perfect space for patience.
It didn't take long for us to dive into hugs, catching up, in depth conversation that only comes with the deep connection of ageless family-of-choice; and Lemongrass Chicken, Tamarind Duck, Massaman Curry, fresh Basil Rolls and Curry Puff Pastry. Over aromatic tea, spirits lifted out of a seemingly bottomless basement of depression to the first and second floors of rays of relief.
Then off we cabbed to the concert.
My excitement at seeing and hearing the dear friends, who years ago came into my life through another mutual friend to accompany my singing at her San Francisco wedding, mounted as we entered the hall.
Added to that was my child-like delight at finally introducing them to my beloved, Tom, and sister in light, Heide, who only knew the pianist, Nancy, through G-Mail, our years-old, online circle of gratitude.
They'd come to know one another in the unique focus on expressing thanks each day and yet had not met face to face. I was giggly with glee at the prospect of connecting the dots of these Angels in my life.
Up the cubicle-with-floor-indicators rose another level.
Next there was meeting concert pianist, Gila Goldstein, President of the New York chapter of the American Liszt Society, who was bringing us all together in the completion of her task of arranging this concert.
Warm in e-mail and welcoming in person, she shone with a lilting light of her own as she introduced the evening's program.
Another half floor fell away with a glide.
In the next moment, there were my friends, suited and soft velvet, glammed up, sharing center stage only feet in front of me after so many years.
I could barely contain my elation.
“How could she be more glamorous or he sweeter faced with the passage of time?" I thought as she adjusted her seat, poised her hands over the ebony and ivory keys and he lifted bow to string for their opening volley of an earfest of magical proportions.
It took me practically the entire first selection to get through the joy and awe radiating through me on the round robin of musical notes and words spinning round my head, “These are my friends making this magnificent music!”
Glancing at Heide and Tom gave me smiling confirmation that they were well on the enjoyment elevator.
I gave myself over completely to the sensuous sounds of the rhythms, chords and melodious march of the music.
Jose Cueto, making a single, shaped box of wood sound like several sets of sensational strings and Nancy Roldan, flying across keys tinkling soft light and roaring waves to carry us to heights we’d forgotten possible; ascended our glass elevator to the Heavens. The César Franck Sonata in A major, allegretto ben moderato, brought us to heart overflowing, eye-brimming tears.
I breathed in the music like air.
Playing together and each taking solo turns, they wound an evening of joyous healing; uplifting energy to float us out of our seats, bodies and earthly cares; transporting us on the alae of the magic of music beyond dreaming.
Ground fell away, roof disappeared and a stunning recognition of profound gifts put to use obscured daily denseness and debilitation.
Aha! I realized in the afterglow of crescendo into echoes and applause to silence; in the hugs and hellos and later gathering at a nearby restaurant, sharing fellowship, food and fun; not only was I not out of tools, the ones in the bottom of the bag were far beyond fine.
I looked around the long table at the happy faces of old friends and new; each haloed in a pool of soft, golden light; 12 of us joined later by 1 to make a brilliant baker’s dozen; trading funny tales; exchanging enjoyment of work; talking music, art, life- and saw Angels on Earth.
Friendship, music, good conversation shared over robust bread dipped in rich olive oil, sparkling water and wine, laughter and the warm energy of being together; gifts shared. With the recognition of these, it is possible to lift out of down in the dark; to be balanced by light which constructs our escalator elite; our stairway to Heaven and metamorphoses a lift into a transcendevator.
With these illuminating implements, in the tiers of the skyscraper of us, it’s not that far from the basement to the penthouse.
On the power of music and the feathers of love of our Earth Angels whom we call friends, it is possible to soar with new wings.
For cds and further information on the concert piano and violin talents of Nancy Roldan and José Miguel Cuerto, please visit www.nancyroldan.com
For further information on the American Liszt Society, please visit http://www.americanlisztsociety.org
For further information on Gila Goldstein, please visit www.gilagoldstein.com
Quote For The Day
"Patriotism is supporting your country all the time and the government when it deserves it."
Mark Twain, author and humorist (1835-1910)
Mark Twain, author and humorist (1835-1910)
Wednesday, November 01, 2006
Quote For The Day
"A tyrant must put on the appearance of uncommon devotion to religion. Subjects are less apprehensive of illegal treatment from a ruler whom they consider god-fearing and pious. On the other hand, they do less easily move against him, believing that he has the gods on his side."
Aristotle, philosopher (384-322 BCE)
Aristotle, philosopher (384-322 BCE)
Tuesday, October 31, 2006
Monday, October 30, 2006
The Gratitude Pool: HugSpread
In any language, hugs are a symbol of caring, humanity's good, an opportunity to touch and be touched in a world where these are suspect and sometimes dangerous.
I thank those who dared to stand out in the crowd of what we've become in our own lives: passersby.
These generous, risk taking souls remind us that, regardless of where we live in the world, what language we speak, what our beliefs, age, gender, race; we are connected. Our energy responds with delight each time we heed the human need for wholesome, good touch.
It's what we give our kids and then tell them not to accept from strangers. For safety's sake, we teach our kids discretion, discernment and self caring, which is a good thing. And it sticks with us for the rest of our lives; sometimes past the expiration date of childhood's years. Just watch as adult people walk by as if they didn't see this unusual person with the Free Hugs sign. Watch as they reconsider, go back, give a tentative half hug and journey on lighter and happier with kid smiles on former focused, serious faces. Watch how surprised they can be at how good they feel.
The joy is contagious. Feeling better for the human touch; given safely, freely with no restraints from the heart, sparks that connective, happy energy inside of each receiver till they become givers too. Watch some folks, big and small, really get into it with the abandon of the joy of the child alive and well and living inside each of us who breathe on this planet.
Watch the fun of it all turn to peace and a unity of spirit. It's a circle of light.
Not a bad exchange for a couple of moments spent taking a chance on hugs!
Think I'm going to go out and hug a tree today too. An exchange of living, breathing appreciative energy that feeds the soul of both giver and receiver. That's good energy too.
For free yet, already!
I thank those who dared to stand out in the crowd of what we've become in our own lives: passersby.
These generous, risk taking souls remind us that, regardless of where we live in the world, what language we speak, what our beliefs, age, gender, race; we are connected. Our energy responds with delight each time we heed the human need for wholesome, good touch.
It's what we give our kids and then tell them not to accept from strangers. For safety's sake, we teach our kids discretion, discernment and self caring, which is a good thing. And it sticks with us for the rest of our lives; sometimes past the expiration date of childhood's years. Just watch as adult people walk by as if they didn't see this unusual person with the Free Hugs sign. Watch as they reconsider, go back, give a tentative half hug and journey on lighter and happier with kid smiles on former focused, serious faces. Watch how surprised they can be at how good they feel.
The joy is contagious. Feeling better for the human touch; given safely, freely with no restraints from the heart, sparks that connective, happy energy inside of each receiver till they become givers too. Watch some folks, big and small, really get into it with the abandon of the joy of the child alive and well and living inside each of us who breathe on this planet.
Watch the fun of it all turn to peace and a unity of spirit. It's a circle of light.
Not a bad exchange for a couple of moments spent taking a chance on hugs!
Think I'm going to go out and hug a tree today too. An exchange of living, breathing appreciative energy that feeds the soul of both giver and receiver. That's good energy too.
For free yet, already!
Friday, October 27, 2006
Quote For The Day
"The world is round and the place which may seem like the end may also be only the beginning."
George Baker (1877-1965)
George Baker (1877-1965)
Thursday, October 26, 2006
The Gratitude Pool
This day's gratitude is more for what didn't happen than what did. A day of peace. A number 5 day. Nothing great or horrible. Just a day where work went on, balanced by nice meals and rest. A couple of emails from friends and phone calls with family. Just warm energy in a day.
I'm grateful for a day of mmmmmmmmm.
It makes me think about how good it is to be plain ordinary and OK.
I'm grateful for a day of mmmmmmmmm.
It makes me think about how good it is to be plain ordinary and OK.
"Brighter Day" by Florence Ondré
“If I look for the brighter day, I may miss the rays of light which peek out around me in the seeming darkness of this moment. Where there is dark there is light. Therefore I may as well be still where I am and breathe what peace; what good there is here in perceived gloom. Who knows what lesson, blessing, brighter day is present in the now?”
Florence Ondré, writer, poet, singer song writer, photographer
I’ve come to realize that my challenge is to be content where I am; to remember that all things pass in the energy of change; to not miss anything that is happening right now.
I forget that because many experiences are chafing, uncomfortable or distasteful. Yet there is the Rumi saying, “If you are irritated by every rub, how will you be polished?”
Finding my brighter day each day is my inner work because I do know I’m a work of art in progress; that angel in the marble Michelangelo talked about. We all are.
Most of my life when there was pain (and there was plenty of it) I looked to a brighter day. I was told there would be one coming. There always was - even though the time in getting here varied in length, breadth and texture.
The practice of that looking forward widened a river of hope running through me.
Today, I want to fine tune that way of being in the world; always looking, with smile on my face, for some bright to appear - hopefully soon.
The last time I spoke of the latest travail which seemed to be lingering overlong on my timeline, a friend listened patiently and gently. After I ended the saga with my positive spin of, “But I know there’s a brighter day coming,” she asked me a quiet question, “What do you really want and when?”
I was a little taken by surprise and had too stop and think deeper than usual; let the question sink down through my head and heart to my gut.
Taking a deep breath as I felt the question journey within, on the exhale, I knew what my real goal was and that I wanted highest good for myself and others- and I wanted it ‘now!’ Not sooner or later - now - right now!
Old-tape feelings of ‘how selfish and demanding are you, you instant gratification child?’ popped in my brain. I acknowledged them, said,’thanks for visiting. you may leave now. Go into light to become more light’ and realized how silent and invisible these little snippets of preconditioning are; still hanging around, blocking my view.
Realization flooded me. If I had the components of seeking, seeing and summoning, the energy to create within me, why shouldn’t I just shift my wording and wanting into present tense?
I’d read about affirming your good in the now. Not simply saying the words, 'thanks for my highest good now,' but really feeling my good evolving as I think of it.
It stood to reason that, if 'our words are our wands,’ ‘what we conceive, we can achieve,’ and ‘I can’t recognize a stranger,’ then the bright day is already here manifesting.
The only matter yet to consider is when I sense it.
Rumi also said, “When you do things from your soul, you feel a river moving in you; a joy.”
The form is formed now and it is me who is catching up to it.
It is said that in thinking what you want, putting your desire out into the Universe in partnership, trusting that all is well and better than you can imagine at any given moment, manifestation time of our highest good is getting shorter every day.
It’s not a matter of it 'coming.'
My brighter day is here in the now. As soon as I can recognize it.
As Victor Hugo wrote, “Be like the bird, who halting in his flight / On limb too slight, / Feels it give way beneath him, yet sings / Knowing he has wings.”
...and so it is.
Florence Ondré, writer, poet, singer song writer, photographer
I’ve come to realize that my challenge is to be content where I am; to remember that all things pass in the energy of change; to not miss anything that is happening right now.
I forget that because many experiences are chafing, uncomfortable or distasteful. Yet there is the Rumi saying, “If you are irritated by every rub, how will you be polished?”
Finding my brighter day each day is my inner work because I do know I’m a work of art in progress; that angel in the marble Michelangelo talked about. We all are.
Most of my life when there was pain (and there was plenty of it) I looked to a brighter day. I was told there would be one coming. There always was - even though the time in getting here varied in length, breadth and texture.
The practice of that looking forward widened a river of hope running through me.
Today, I want to fine tune that way of being in the world; always looking, with smile on my face, for some bright to appear - hopefully soon.
The last time I spoke of the latest travail which seemed to be lingering overlong on my timeline, a friend listened patiently and gently. After I ended the saga with my positive spin of, “But I know there’s a brighter day coming,” she asked me a quiet question, “What do you really want and when?”
I was a little taken by surprise and had too stop and think deeper than usual; let the question sink down through my head and heart to my gut.
Taking a deep breath as I felt the question journey within, on the exhale, I knew what my real goal was and that I wanted highest good for myself and others- and I wanted it ‘now!’ Not sooner or later - now - right now!
Old-tape feelings of ‘how selfish and demanding are you, you instant gratification child?’ popped in my brain. I acknowledged them, said,’thanks for visiting. you may leave now. Go into light to become more light’ and realized how silent and invisible these little snippets of preconditioning are; still hanging around, blocking my view.
Realization flooded me. If I had the components of seeking, seeing and summoning, the energy to create within me, why shouldn’t I just shift my wording and wanting into present tense?
I’d read about affirming your good in the now. Not simply saying the words, 'thanks for my highest good now,' but really feeling my good evolving as I think of it.
It stood to reason that, if 'our words are our wands,’ ‘what we conceive, we can achieve,’ and ‘I can’t recognize a stranger,’ then the bright day is already here manifesting.
The only matter yet to consider is when I sense it.
Rumi also said, “When you do things from your soul, you feel a river moving in you; a joy.”
The form is formed now and it is me who is catching up to it.
It is said that in thinking what you want, putting your desire out into the Universe in partnership, trusting that all is well and better than you can imagine at any given moment, manifestation time of our highest good is getting shorter every day.
It’s not a matter of it 'coming.'
My brighter day is here in the now. As soon as I can recognize it.
As Victor Hugo wrote, “Be like the bird, who halting in his flight / On limb too slight, / Feels it give way beneath him, yet sings / Knowing he has wings.”
...and so it is.
Tuesday, October 24, 2006
ANGELFOOD: Curried Creme of Pumpkin Soup
My good friend, Owen, is a great cook who loves good food as much as I do. When he heard I was starting a section on my blog called ANGELFOOD, where I want to share recipes, delicious dishes and favorite restaurants, this was his gift of Autumn ambrosia to all of us. Way to start off the ANGELFOOD on eflorence. Dig in everyone!
Thanks and Yum, Owen!
Curried Creme of Pumpkin Soup
Recipe: Owen S. Lager
pianoman63osl@yahoo.com
1- Qt. Chicken Soup or stock (homemade is always best,
but any will do).
½- cup additional broth, reserved
1- Can pumpkin (not the pumpkin pie mixture)
2- Onions, chopped
2 (or more) Carrots, peeled, chopped fine
1- TBS Curry powder
1- tsp Ginger powder
½ cup milk or cream
2 – 3 TBS Honey (or to taste)*
salt and black pepper to taste**
OPTION: add regular or sweet potato to help thicken (pureed)
METHOD:
1. Sauté onions and carrots until they caramelize;
2. In the reserved chicken broth (soup, stock) puree onions
and carrots;
3. In a soup pot combine the chicken broth, pureed onion/carrot/broth mixture and pumpkin; bring to near boil;
4. Reduce heat and add curry and ginger;
5. Allow soup to simmer, stirring occasionally with whisk;
6. Add honey*;
7. Allow soup to simmer, stirring occasionally with whisk;
8. Reduce heat and finish with milk or cream; DO NOT BOIL.
9. salt and black pepper to taste**
10. Approve seasonings and adjust. (Suggestion: you may add other complimentary seasonings such as nutmeg, ground cardamom, allspice, etc.,in very small amounts)
11. Serve with warm crusty bread.
This hearty soup satisfies with its texture, taste and aroma, and is very quick and relatively inexpensive to make. It is chock-full of vitamin A and is a good source of fiber.
*In place of honey, SPLENDA or sugar can be used (or EQUAL™ after soup has finished cooking; cooking will destroy the proteins that make EQUAL™ sweet).
NOTE: Persons with a potassium restriction should avoid this soup, as the pumpkin and optional potato are loaded with potassium.
Thanks and Yum, Owen!
Curried Creme of Pumpkin Soup
Recipe: Owen S. Lager
pianoman63osl@yahoo.com
1- Qt. Chicken Soup or stock (homemade is always best,
but any will do).
½- cup additional broth, reserved
1- Can pumpkin (not the pumpkin pie mixture)
2- Onions, chopped
2 (or more) Carrots, peeled, chopped fine
1- TBS Curry powder
1- tsp Ginger powder
½ cup milk or cream
2 – 3 TBS Honey (or to taste)*
salt and black pepper to taste**
OPTION: add regular or sweet potato to help thicken (pureed)
METHOD:
1. Sauté onions and carrots until they caramelize;
2. In the reserved chicken broth (soup, stock) puree onions
and carrots;
3. In a soup pot combine the chicken broth, pureed onion/carrot/broth mixture and pumpkin; bring to near boil;
4. Reduce heat and add curry and ginger;
5. Allow soup to simmer, stirring occasionally with whisk;
6. Add honey*;
7. Allow soup to simmer, stirring occasionally with whisk;
8. Reduce heat and finish with milk or cream; DO NOT BOIL.
9. salt and black pepper to taste**
10. Approve seasonings and adjust. (Suggestion: you may add other complimentary seasonings such as nutmeg, ground cardamom, allspice, etc.,in very small amounts)
11. Serve with warm crusty bread.
This hearty soup satisfies with its texture, taste and aroma, and is very quick and relatively inexpensive to make. It is chock-full of vitamin A and is a good source of fiber.
*In place of honey, SPLENDA or sugar can be used (or EQUAL™ after soup has finished cooking; cooking will destroy the proteins that make EQUAL™ sweet).
NOTE: Persons with a potassium restriction should avoid this soup, as the pumpkin and optional potato are loaded with potassium.
The Gratitude Pool: Ship of Friends
For those Angels who come into human form to stand by our side in our finest hours, help heal our hearts when hurt and laugh with us at human foibles and life's absurdities; these yacht's of yeomen strong on the living seas; these dorys of doers in the daily doldrums; these boats of brave souls bailing life's leaks; these luxury liners who lift us when we're down, I give thanks for you all who make up the beams of that most cherished of all cruise carriers...Friendship!
Quote For The Day
"In the sweetness of friendship let there be laughter, and sharing of pleasures. For in the dew of little things the heart finds its morning and is refreshed."
Kahlil Gibran
Kahlil Gibran
Monday, October 23, 2006
Judgment In Relationships
by
Florence Ondré
(excepted from "Less Thorns; More Roses" c. 1997)
Relationship where judgment rules
Launch to sea this ship of fools
One if by land, two if by sea
This view of you, that view of me
Few can truly stay the brave
To smoothly sail relations wave
For in forgetting honoring
Questions go a wandering
Left in their wake are misconcepts
Listing to what’s less than best
Once high thoughts slip down below
Yawing, pitching to and fro
In dazed doldrums dreams decry
Leaving both to wonder why
Ships of relations that seem sound
Easily do run aground.
Florence Ondré
(excepted from "Less Thorns; More Roses" c. 1997)
Relationship where judgment rules
Launch to sea this ship of fools
One if by land, two if by sea
This view of you, that view of me
Few can truly stay the brave
To smoothly sail relations wave
For in forgetting honoring
Questions go a wandering
Left in their wake are misconcepts
Listing to what’s less than best
Once high thoughts slip down below
Yawing, pitching to and fro
In dazed doldrums dreams decry
Leaving both to wonder why
Ships of relations that seem sound
Easily do run aground.
Quote For The Day
“The beginning of love is to let those we love be perfectly themselves, and not to twist them to fit our own image. Otherwise we love only the reflection of ourselves we find in them.”
Thomas Merton 1915-1968
Thomas Merton 1915-1968
Sunday, October 22, 2006
Saturday, October 21, 2006
Quote For The Day
“Reality is merely an illusion, although a very persistent one”
Albert Einstein 1879-1955
Albert Einstein 1879-1955
Which Way Did They Go?
by
Florence Ondré
What's Saturday doing here? Wasn't that yesterday?
I’m fairly sure that's when I woke up with weekend to-do lists in my head.
So, what's it doing on my plate today?
It's brain boggling how days can get lost like errant socks in the wash. They must be in the tumbler on spin cycle of my mind.
There's where I need a repair person.
Ratchet my grey matter up a notch or rev the world down. I don't know which would give more ability to keep things like days of the week in a more orderly fashion. Time's a blur right now. I can barely keep two thoughts together in a semblance of shape. There’s so much busyness; cacophony of chores calling, “Me first. Me first!”
Days become night before I get half of what I'd like to accomplish done. Dinner slips into an 8-ish slot and heartburn makes a frequent P.M. visit as I barely get the pots and pans washed and put away.
If I hit the couch, I'm a goner; waking up in some wee hour with drool on my cheek, a crimp in my neck and permanent eyeglass pinch marks on the bridge of my nose.
Now that's attractive!
Of course, by that time, I'm up. And getting to sleep is either a stumbling-up-the-stairs-fall-into-bed-like-a-stone affair; mumbling like my father used to when Mom caught him napping, “I lay down for a minute. Was just resting my eyes,” or my peepers are wide open like someone toothpick propped them. No rest for the weary. Good time to write.
Everything is still. Nothing to deter me from getting words together. No one to blame for interruptions in the creative flow.
..................And my mind's a blank.
Florence Ondré
What's Saturday doing here? Wasn't that yesterday?
I’m fairly sure that's when I woke up with weekend to-do lists in my head.
So, what's it doing on my plate today?
It's brain boggling how days can get lost like errant socks in the wash. They must be in the tumbler on spin cycle of my mind.
There's where I need a repair person.
Ratchet my grey matter up a notch or rev the world down. I don't know which would give more ability to keep things like days of the week in a more orderly fashion. Time's a blur right now. I can barely keep two thoughts together in a semblance of shape. There’s so much busyness; cacophony of chores calling, “Me first. Me first!”
Days become night before I get half of what I'd like to accomplish done. Dinner slips into an 8-ish slot and heartburn makes a frequent P.M. visit as I barely get the pots and pans washed and put away.
If I hit the couch, I'm a goner; waking up in some wee hour with drool on my cheek, a crimp in my neck and permanent eyeglass pinch marks on the bridge of my nose.
Now that's attractive!
Of course, by that time, I'm up. And getting to sleep is either a stumbling-up-the-stairs-fall-into-bed-like-a-stone affair; mumbling like my father used to when Mom caught him napping, “I lay down for a minute. Was just resting my eyes,” or my peepers are wide open like someone toothpick propped them. No rest for the weary. Good time to write.
Everything is still. Nothing to deter me from getting words together. No one to blame for interruptions in the creative flow.
..................And my mind's a blank.
Friday, October 20, 2006
Quote For The Day
“Sometimes I wonder whether the world is being run by smart people who are putting us on or by imbeciles who really mean it.”
Mark Twain, author and humorist (1835-1910)
Mark Twain, author and humorist (1835-1910)
Morning Of The Macadamians
by
Florence Ondré
Last night when I went to bed, I didn’t know if we’d wake up to nuclear war or not wake up at all.
I shrugged and thought, as I performed my evening ablutions, “Well, if we’re facing a boatload of nuclear substances sailing into wackadoo North Korea, it really doesn’t matter if I shave my legs.”
I usually don’t listen to news at night (don’t want to have freakazoidmares) but last night the tube was on at 1 A.M. and I caught the drift of the ‘breaking story’ wherein a very stone faced reporter intoned the impending doom of a ship carrying possible nuclear stuff heading into North Korea. This, following that country’s July test-firing a barrage of missiles and performing a nuclear explosion on October 9th, 2006.
Ah, the stuff of dreams, eh?
I’d heard the news this week of the chief North Korean Walnut refusing to be part of peace talks; ranting threats to the Imperialists (they don’t call that, U.S., for nothing) like a bully in the international schoolyard, “If you put financial sanctions against us, we’re gonna blow you up…” (Notice there’s no thought that the radiation cloud blows right back onto your own people.)
There’s a tired variation on the old, ‘I’m taking my ball home if you don’t play my way.’ We’ve heard untold slants on that theme so often that we’re like weary elders sighing and saying, “You get a time out.” Then we go to bed thinking, ‘Hey, if you’re gonna be a brat, you’re gonna be one. Zap. Poof. There goes your allowance until you quit it.”
And bingo! I do wake up this morning. There still is a world and, lo and behold, President Peanut says, he’s sorry. He’ll talk nicely now. Did his honorable Mother China wash his mouth out with soap? Or was it venerable Father China taking away his spending money so he won’t go out and throw it away on weed or weapons of mass myopathy?
Geepers! If I had a nickel for every time a big bag of wind farts in public, I’d be able to fund safe housing, medical treatment, education and art for the entire world!
Which brings me to our own homegrown Main Macadamian, who I read in the headlines (which are more arselines, due to lack of cerebral portion of the anatomy engagement) announcing that he’s campaigning for ALL his minions of Cashew candidates; including the outed, perverted, pedophile Pecans, to get re-elected to office. (Yeah, that’s what we want. Years more of bad boy B.S.)
Are you as tired of this ignorance and arrogance posturing as leadership as I am?
The assorted salty snacks of in-flight meals are cha-cha-ing out of the can and the cracker factory doors are open wide.
I’m weary just thinking about how much energy it takes to be, or behold, an unsalted schmuck.
I’ll probably have to shave my legs now.
There might be a tomorrow.
Nuts!
Florence Ondré
Last night when I went to bed, I didn’t know if we’d wake up to nuclear war or not wake up at all.
I shrugged and thought, as I performed my evening ablutions, “Well, if we’re facing a boatload of nuclear substances sailing into wackadoo North Korea, it really doesn’t matter if I shave my legs.”
I usually don’t listen to news at night (don’t want to have freakazoidmares) but last night the tube was on at 1 A.M. and I caught the drift of the ‘breaking story’ wherein a very stone faced reporter intoned the impending doom of a ship carrying possible nuclear stuff heading into North Korea. This, following that country’s July test-firing a barrage of missiles and performing a nuclear explosion on October 9th, 2006.
Ah, the stuff of dreams, eh?
I’d heard the news this week of the chief North Korean Walnut refusing to be part of peace talks; ranting threats to the Imperialists (they don’t call that, U.S., for nothing) like a bully in the international schoolyard, “If you put financial sanctions against us, we’re gonna blow you up…” (Notice there’s no thought that the radiation cloud blows right back onto your own people.)
There’s a tired variation on the old, ‘I’m taking my ball home if you don’t play my way.’ We’ve heard untold slants on that theme so often that we’re like weary elders sighing and saying, “You get a time out.” Then we go to bed thinking, ‘Hey, if you’re gonna be a brat, you’re gonna be one. Zap. Poof. There goes your allowance until you quit it.”
And bingo! I do wake up this morning. There still is a world and, lo and behold, President Peanut says, he’s sorry. He’ll talk nicely now. Did his honorable Mother China wash his mouth out with soap? Or was it venerable Father China taking away his spending money so he won’t go out and throw it away on weed or weapons of mass myopathy?
Geepers! If I had a nickel for every time a big bag of wind farts in public, I’d be able to fund safe housing, medical treatment, education and art for the entire world!
Which brings me to our own homegrown Main Macadamian, who I read in the headlines (which are more arselines, due to lack of cerebral portion of the anatomy engagement) announcing that he’s campaigning for ALL his minions of Cashew candidates; including the outed, perverted, pedophile Pecans, to get re-elected to office. (Yeah, that’s what we want. Years more of bad boy B.S.)
Are you as tired of this ignorance and arrogance posturing as leadership as I am?
The assorted salty snacks of in-flight meals are cha-cha-ing out of the can and the cracker factory doors are open wide.
I’m weary just thinking about how much energy it takes to be, or behold, an unsalted schmuck.
I’ll probably have to shave my legs now.
There might be a tomorrow.
Nuts!
Thursday, October 19, 2006
The Gratitude Pool: Creativity and Human Spirit
by
Florence Ondré
I'm so grateful for the creativity and warm spirit of people around our planet.
In a world which looks so out of control and violent, it's a challenge to see things otherwise.
The nightly news, broadcasting it's steady stream of 90 per cent tragedy and 10 per cent (I'm being generous here) positive, uplifting and good, can obscure a greater, less visible or widely reported, reality.
I believe that Anne Frank was accurate. On my most challenging days, in my heart (and there are those days where I have to dig deep), I too believe that all people are good in theirs.
The Free Hugs Campaign, which started with one man- Juan Mann to be specific- in Sydney, Australia. Standing solo in a public place, holding a cardboard sign which announced hugs were available for no fee; no limit, for anyone who wanted one, this lone person started a rash of good energy that spread faster than calamitous contagion around the world.
Now this kind of epidemic we can live with.
Who among us couldn't use a hug? Just a minute of a Mom-patting, ah-babying, yes-you-are-good, atta-boy, good job, keep on keeping on, good-to-see-you experience of human connection can make you smile, take the world less seriously and send you on your way a bit lighter and happier. Certainly makes my work day go more smoothly.
It's a gesture of loving energy that anyone can give or receive. Remember the last time you had a disagreement with someone. Didn't it feel good to make up and have a hug? Just look at dogs. They wag their whole bodies in happiness from receiving a hug.
Hugs for free? Given by a person you don't know? Wow. A little scary. Might take a moment to let go of distrust and avail yourself of a happy second where two strangers can share a moment like friends. Radical stuff. Chancey. Dicey.
Authorities in Australia had initial doubt about the legality of such a concept.
"Stop that folderol right now, you uniquers!"
The ministry of silly stuff should have been called. "Yup. It's giggle producing. Here's your permit."
It did take the populace banding together, inking 10,000 plus pro hugging signatures to get an official stamp of approval.
Good non violent speaking up and out people. Patience and persistance. Even hugs are a process.
Might have to take down those walls we've built up to insulate us from each other. Might have to experience life from a kid point of view.
I'm not saying go hug people in dark alleys. It's good to be self caring and discerning. We're talking mall, streets, public areas, daylight.
Take a look at the videos from the many countries where people emulated Juan Mann. Become aware of how you feel looking at all those joy filled people giving and receiving hugs.
I couldn't stop smiling as I got to share the good contagious energy of hugs in Moscow, Barcelona, Venezuela, Victoria B.C., Kiev, Portugal, Tel Aviv, Mexico, and America. I laughed watching the experiences of tentativeness turn into joy and unity.
It was contagious and I hadn't even left my chair.
I wanted to get up and go out with my own hand made Free Hugs sign.
Maybe that would be a good way to celebrate holidays, everydays. Talk about your joy to the world. For free yet, already!
With a little creativity and spirit, look what can travel around the globe; making people feel united, peacefilled, elated with natural happiness.
The simplicity of a human act...a hug.
Thanks Juan. Thanks all you good hearted people of all ages, sizes, nationalities, beliefs who dared to be the best human you can be; who dared to smile, to experience peace and a moment of gladness...those who dared to hug.
You inspire us.
Florence Ondré
I'm so grateful for the creativity and warm spirit of people around our planet.
In a world which looks so out of control and violent, it's a challenge to see things otherwise.
The nightly news, broadcasting it's steady stream of 90 per cent tragedy and 10 per cent (I'm being generous here) positive, uplifting and good, can obscure a greater, less visible or widely reported, reality.
I believe that Anne Frank was accurate. On my most challenging days, in my heart (and there are those days where I have to dig deep), I too believe that all people are good in theirs.
The Free Hugs Campaign, which started with one man- Juan Mann to be specific- in Sydney, Australia. Standing solo in a public place, holding a cardboard sign which announced hugs were available for no fee; no limit, for anyone who wanted one, this lone person started a rash of good energy that spread faster than calamitous contagion around the world.
Now this kind of epidemic we can live with.
Who among us couldn't use a hug? Just a minute of a Mom-patting, ah-babying, yes-you-are-good, atta-boy, good job, keep on keeping on, good-to-see-you experience of human connection can make you smile, take the world less seriously and send you on your way a bit lighter and happier. Certainly makes my work day go more smoothly.
It's a gesture of loving energy that anyone can give or receive. Remember the last time you had a disagreement with someone. Didn't it feel good to make up and have a hug? Just look at dogs. They wag their whole bodies in happiness from receiving a hug.
Hugs for free? Given by a person you don't know? Wow. A little scary. Might take a moment to let go of distrust and avail yourself of a happy second where two strangers can share a moment like friends. Radical stuff. Chancey. Dicey.
Authorities in Australia had initial doubt about the legality of such a concept.
"Stop that folderol right now, you uniquers!"
The ministry of silly stuff should have been called. "Yup. It's giggle producing. Here's your permit."
It did take the populace banding together, inking 10,000 plus pro hugging signatures to get an official stamp of approval.
Good non violent speaking up and out people. Patience and persistance. Even hugs are a process.
Might have to take down those walls we've built up to insulate us from each other. Might have to experience life from a kid point of view.
I'm not saying go hug people in dark alleys. It's good to be self caring and discerning. We're talking mall, streets, public areas, daylight.
Take a look at the videos from the many countries where people emulated Juan Mann. Become aware of how you feel looking at all those joy filled people giving and receiving hugs.
I couldn't stop smiling as I got to share the good contagious energy of hugs in Moscow, Barcelona, Venezuela, Victoria B.C., Kiev, Portugal, Tel Aviv, Mexico, and America. I laughed watching the experiences of tentativeness turn into joy and unity.
It was contagious and I hadn't even left my chair.
I wanted to get up and go out with my own hand made Free Hugs sign.
Maybe that would be a good way to celebrate holidays, everydays. Talk about your joy to the world. For free yet, already!
With a little creativity and spirit, look what can travel around the globe; making people feel united, peacefilled, elated with natural happiness.
The simplicity of a human act...a hug.
Thanks Juan. Thanks all you good hearted people of all ages, sizes, nationalities, beliefs who dared to be the best human you can be; who dared to smile, to experience peace and a moment of gladness...those who dared to hug.
You inspire us.
That John Adams, what a kidder...
I love a president with a healthy sense of humor; whose ego hasn't outstripped his reason.
(see quote below)
(see quote below)
Quote For The Day
“The only maxim of a free government ought to be to trust no man living with power to endanger the public liberty.”
John Adams, 2nd US president (1735-1826)
John Adams, 2nd US president (1735-1826)
Wednesday, October 18, 2006
The Gratitude Pool
I'm grateful for the opportunity and responsibility to speak up in public forums. One of our most cherished freedoms; the ability to speak our minds clearly and be heard, is what keeps us all growing. And to find in that process, that going hand in hand, no matter whether we agree with one another or not, still keeps us together... if we allow each other honoring space on the journey.
In Light & Love,
Florence
In Light & Love,
Florence
Autumn Ambrosia
by
Florence Ondré
As I sit at my keyboard, the aromatic scent of apples; fresh picked off the orchard trees, wafting tantalizingly around me, I am reminded that not everything is nose to the grindstone. I can pause a moment and reflect on the day in the orchard with family, picnicking; overlooking the valley stretching below us like a Wyeth idyllic painting. The pause that refreshes. Work is always there and won’t begrudge me a few moments breathing in apples and their orchard memories.
Two really big bags of Mutsu, Cortland, Macintosh, Empire Red and Golden Delicious globes sit on my dining room table sighing the simplicity of goodness.
The world for a moment seems all right in the presence of the basics of an Autumn apple.
The great Mouli Grinder hunt is on. That old fashioned, hand cranked food mill which my grandmother and mother used to take red, ripe tomatoes; fresh from their gardens, to swirl, swirl, swirl the grinder handle and turn the sun kissed fruit into perfect pureé for pasta. The cooking was an all day process in this time honored tradition of making the best marinara on the planet.
It can also be used to make the most delicious apple sauce your taste buds ever dreamed of enjoying. Pears can be steamed and added to make pear/apple sauce…or peaches…or berries…a pinch of cinnamon…a dash of sugar…we’re talking a recipe for Fall Fruit Heaven.
I’ve tried them all and become famous in my family for this ambrosia.
That brings us to this year’s season. The apples and family are waiting, drooling for the sensational homemade sauce.
Now, if I could only remember where the Mouli Grinder is.
Or who still has them for sale…
Florence Ondré
As I sit at my keyboard, the aromatic scent of apples; fresh picked off the orchard trees, wafting tantalizingly around me, I am reminded that not everything is nose to the grindstone. I can pause a moment and reflect on the day in the orchard with family, picnicking; overlooking the valley stretching below us like a Wyeth idyllic painting. The pause that refreshes. Work is always there and won’t begrudge me a few moments breathing in apples and their orchard memories.
Two really big bags of Mutsu, Cortland, Macintosh, Empire Red and Golden Delicious globes sit on my dining room table sighing the simplicity of goodness.
The world for a moment seems all right in the presence of the basics of an Autumn apple.
The great Mouli Grinder hunt is on. That old fashioned, hand cranked food mill which my grandmother and mother used to take red, ripe tomatoes; fresh from their gardens, to swirl, swirl, swirl the grinder handle and turn the sun kissed fruit into perfect pureé for pasta. The cooking was an all day process in this time honored tradition of making the best marinara on the planet.
It can also be used to make the most delicious apple sauce your taste buds ever dreamed of enjoying. Pears can be steamed and added to make pear/apple sauce…or peaches…or berries…a pinch of cinnamon…a dash of sugar…we’re talking a recipe for Fall Fruit Heaven.
I’ve tried them all and become famous in my family for this ambrosia.
That brings us to this year’s season. The apples and family are waiting, drooling for the sensational homemade sauce.
Now, if I could only remember where the Mouli Grinder is.
Or who still has them for sale…
Quote For The Day
"Remember, we all stumble, every one of us. That's why it's a comfort to go hand in hand."
Emily Kimbrough, author and broadcaster (1899-1989)
Emily Kimbrough, author and broadcaster (1899-1989)
Tuesday, October 17, 2006
Quote For The Day
"The pessimist complains about the wind; the optimist expects it to change; the realist adjusts the sails."
William Arthur Ward, college administrator, writer (1921-1994)
William Arthur Ward, college administrator, writer (1921-1994)
Monday, October 16, 2006
Quote For The Day
“Courage doesn't always roar. Sometimes courage is the quiet voice at the end of the day saying, "I will try again tomorrow.”
Mary Anne Radmacher
Mary Anne Radmacher
Sunday, October 15, 2006
Free Hugs Campaign
In keeping with the quote for the day, serendipity struck this morning. My friend, Elaine, sent me this video. I enjoyed it so much, I went searching for what is unfolding in the world as a result of Juan Mann’s creativity in the world of human relations.
From time to time, I’ll add the videos from around the world to share with you.
Be the change.
Enjoy.
And thanks Juan. Way to go!
In Light,
Florence
Saturday, October 14, 2006
Line Rider - WTF
Some days ya just have to say WTF and, like this little one, go have fun where ya find it!
Thanks Matt for your great sense of joy and humor. (See his other LineRider works as scudly on youtube.com)
The Gratitude Pool
I'm grateful there is gratitude in the world; being multiplied by all of us who become aware of and express our own.
In Light and Love,
Florence
In Light and Love,
Florence
Quote For The Day
"Words are chameleons, which reflect the color of their environment." Learned Hand, jurist (1872-1961)
Friday, October 13, 2006
Quote For The Day
"Out of suffering... emerge the strongest souls;
the most massive characters are seared with scars."
Kahlil Gibran
the most massive characters are seared with scars."
Kahlil Gibran
Thursday, October 12, 2006
Quote For The Day
“Remember, we all stumble, every one of us. That’s why it’s a comfort to go hand in hand.”
Emily Kimbrough, author and broadcaster (1899-1989)
Emily Kimbrough, author and broadcaster (1899-1989)
Wednesday, October 11, 2006
Tuesday, October 10, 2006
Quote For The Day
"Learning is weightless, a treasure you can always carry easily." -Chinese Proverb
Monday, October 09, 2006
Quote For The Day
"Be civil to all, sociable to many, familiar with few, friend to one, enemy to none."
Benjamin Franklin, statesman, author, and inventor (1706-1790)
Benjamin Franklin, statesman, author, and inventor (1706-1790)
Friday, October 06, 2006
Words Fail Me...
by Florence Ondré
Do you remember the saying, “Silence is golden; let’s make a million?”
Ever have one of those days where, no matter what the issue or moment; you can’t catch a break to save yourself?
Every little detail turns into a tangle; every proverbial molehill, a mountain. Even typing on your keyboard turns dyslexic or into a two-left-handed, fumble-fingers festival. (No disrespect, Lefties.)
Words have to get pulled out of your brain like Dumbledore’s wand pulling taffy-like threads of thought from your head; when memory banks send you the not too tightly coded message, “your account is overdrawn;” that’s when it might be time to stop.
Stop talking. Stop doing. Stop trying to figure it all out. Stop thinking altogether.
It’s not working anyway.
Well, this is one of those days for me and I’m noticing how much I want to accomplish while the Gods are throwing down concrete blocks in my path like it’s raining stop signs.
When omens are obvious that you're not going to get anywhere tripping over your own flip flops, who needs an eight ball to get the message, “Signs say doubtful?”
And still the energizer bunny in my hamster cage mind is going, going, going.
Got to get something written, have to get bug strips for the fruit fly invasion, should trim those hedges, want to organize the photo files, need to buy tin foil, must get toilet tissue, ought to purchase more stamps, want to return those phone calls. All of which are geared to set me up for the coulda, woulda, shoulda regretfest.
The list goes on long enough to occupy me entirely, like being laid out like a latke in an MRI session. Claustrophobia doesn’t stand a chance with me in that tunnel. Who has time to be scared? I’ve got my lists to contemplate. Going over them in my cranium and the next thing I hear after the tech has said, “Hold completely still, please,” is “OK, all done!” as they filch me out of the tube of magnetic resonance.
So much for my friend’s suggestion to ‘just let go and meditate; take advantage of the silence; just be.’
Now, here I am in this day, getting bombarded with every possible indicator that there will be no answers; no words out of my mouth or actions I may wish to take that will make a dent in the invisible duty roster or solve the challenges in my home, work or the world.
Balls are being dropped. Words won’t willingly come forth. Why grumble or grouse about it?
Might as well heed the call. Let go. Opt for some peace maybe.
This is not my wisdom face; sage, spiritual and serene.
I’m just too tired to argue.
It’s that kind of day. Silence sounds good.
And as I make this choice, rain begins to softly fall, hushing all.
Do you remember the saying, “Silence is golden; let’s make a million?”
Ever have one of those days where, no matter what the issue or moment; you can’t catch a break to save yourself?
Every little detail turns into a tangle; every proverbial molehill, a mountain. Even typing on your keyboard turns dyslexic or into a two-left-handed, fumble-fingers festival. (No disrespect, Lefties.)
Words have to get pulled out of your brain like Dumbledore’s wand pulling taffy-like threads of thought from your head; when memory banks send you the not too tightly coded message, “your account is overdrawn;” that’s when it might be time to stop.
Stop talking. Stop doing. Stop trying to figure it all out. Stop thinking altogether.
It’s not working anyway.
Well, this is one of those days for me and I’m noticing how much I want to accomplish while the Gods are throwing down concrete blocks in my path like it’s raining stop signs.
When omens are obvious that you're not going to get anywhere tripping over your own flip flops, who needs an eight ball to get the message, “Signs say doubtful?”
And still the energizer bunny in my hamster cage mind is going, going, going.
Got to get something written, have to get bug strips for the fruit fly invasion, should trim those hedges, want to organize the photo files, need to buy tin foil, must get toilet tissue, ought to purchase more stamps, want to return those phone calls. All of which are geared to set me up for the coulda, woulda, shoulda regretfest.
The list goes on long enough to occupy me entirely, like being laid out like a latke in an MRI session. Claustrophobia doesn’t stand a chance with me in that tunnel. Who has time to be scared? I’ve got my lists to contemplate. Going over them in my cranium and the next thing I hear after the tech has said, “Hold completely still, please,” is “OK, all done!” as they filch me out of the tube of magnetic resonance.
So much for my friend’s suggestion to ‘just let go and meditate; take advantage of the silence; just be.’
Now, here I am in this day, getting bombarded with every possible indicator that there will be no answers; no words out of my mouth or actions I may wish to take that will make a dent in the invisible duty roster or solve the challenges in my home, work or the world.
Balls are being dropped. Words won’t willingly come forth. Why grumble or grouse about it?
Might as well heed the call. Let go. Opt for some peace maybe.
This is not my wisdom face; sage, spiritual and serene.
I’m just too tired to argue.
It’s that kind of day. Silence sounds good.
And as I make this choice, rain begins to softly fall, hushing all.
Quote For The Day
"You can't do anything about the length of your life, but you can do something about its width and depth."
H.L. Mencken, writer, editor, and critic (1880-1956)
H.L. Mencken, writer, editor, and critic (1880-1956)
The Gratitude Pool
I'm grateful for the energy to cook a good meal and fill the house with the aroma of baked goodies. Also grateful for a crisp fall nite; clear with a full moon rising over the trees and the Halleluliah Crickets' Chorus still singing loud and strong.
Who could ask for anything more?
Who could ask for anything more?
Thursday, October 05, 2006
A Balance Of...
A friend sent this ambigram today.
When you look at the image, what do you see?
Can you see the word, evil, inside the word,good?
It got me thinking about things like- balance in the world- which helps me remember that when things look bad/evil, there might just be good in process of taking shape.
Here's where I like that scarysome word, change. ('Yeah, God, let's get this 'evil stuff' outta here fast!' as opposed to, 'holy smokes, what kind of evil change are you gonna dump on me today?')
Then I got to cogitating about that word, evil, (which has been thrown around since 9/11 like political/religious, superfluous chump change everytime someone does something someone else doesn't agree with or like)
If you turn the word, evil, around it spells live!
Look at stuff long enough. Live long enough. And watch how your feelings and actions change on any subject. (Especially if the spotlight gets klieg-lighted on you!)
Call me Anne-Frankish. Most days I believe that evil is a mirage trying to cover up so much good in the world; an attention starved trickster, pip-squeaking to grab our focus.
So, check out my quote for the day, below. Breathe some positive energy into yourself and breathe out anything else into light to become more light. There's balance in everything. What you wish to focus on is your choice.
Quote For The Day
"If you turn the word, evil, around you get the word, live. Live your life the best you can without worry about evil everywhere.
The moments of your life are live.
Like the arrangement of those four letters of the alphabet, it's about perception, perspective and focus.
The choice is yours as to how you see things and what you will do with your moments."
Florence Ondré- writer, poet, singer songwriter, photographer
The moments of your life are live.
Like the arrangement of those four letters of the alphabet, it's about perception, perspective and focus.
The choice is yours as to how you see things and what you will do with your moments."
Florence Ondré- writer, poet, singer songwriter, photographer
Wednesday, October 04, 2006
The Gratitude Pool
Today's gratitude for me was balance. Some of this; some of that.
A five is not a terrible thing to experience.
In Light & Love,
Florence
A five is not a terrible thing to experience.
In Light & Love,
Florence
Quote For The Day
"Who is content with nothing possesses all things."
Nicolas Boileau-Despreaux, poet (1636-1711)
Nicolas Boileau-Despreaux, poet (1636-1711)
The Why Of Butterflies
by Florence Ondré
While everyone (me included) is talking about how the world is going to Hell in a handbasket and my blood is boiling over the shame of man's worst behavior, here are all these butterflies; georgeousness on the wing, flitting, flying to and fro in multitudes to remind me that there is still beauty in the world; nearer than I think.
This is a much better focus.
As these creatures of grace and shimmering flutter come calling, I find my anger disintegrating, like smoke into air, and my despair that goodness is succumbing to the tide of offal, shivering off my shoulders. I am warmed by sighs of relief and gratitude for their reminder of simple profound beauty.
As they hang upside down sipping nectar from flower bells; as they light upon leaves and pose ever so patiently in the grass until just the right ray of sunshine shows these artists models off to their best advantage, they urge me to keep my eye on that which heals my soul instead of rending it.
There is more beauty and more light in the world.
The rest is merely moving on through.
While everyone (me included) is talking about how the world is going to Hell in a handbasket and my blood is boiling over the shame of man's worst behavior, here are all these butterflies; georgeousness on the wing, flitting, flying to and fro in multitudes to remind me that there is still beauty in the world; nearer than I think.
This is a much better focus.
As these creatures of grace and shimmering flutter come calling, I find my anger disintegrating, like smoke into air, and my despair that goodness is succumbing to the tide of offal, shivering off my shoulders. I am warmed by sighs of relief and gratitude for their reminder of simple profound beauty.
As they hang upside down sipping nectar from flower bells; as they light upon leaves and pose ever so patiently in the grass until just the right ray of sunshine shows these artists models off to their best advantage, they urge me to keep my eye on that which heals my soul instead of rending it.
There is more beauty and more light in the world.
The rest is merely moving on through.
Tuesday, October 03, 2006
The Gratitude Pool
I'm grateful today for working with other writers; hearing their work, reading my own and finding inspiration.
I'm grateful for finding a great little place with outdoor cafe; lunch that looked like paintings on everyone's plate.
So simple; so good!
In Light & Love
Florence
I'm grateful for finding a great little place with outdoor cafe; lunch that looked like paintings on everyone's plate.
So simple; so good!
In Light & Love
Florence
Monday, October 02, 2006
The Gratitude Pool
I'm grateful for meaningful work, creative work, balanced by thoughtfulness in a day set aside for contemplation.
I'm grateful for a friend's suggestion of breaking the fast of the day with a feast at our favorite restaurant, East. A banquet was just what we all needed and I'm grateful the owners were in residence tonight because they are so wonderful in including us in their family. The mom is the creative genius for each new dish and loves sharing with us. Tonight was an Asian delicacy...duck's tongues. Yeah, I was a bit squeamish. I'm not that off the charts daring but was grateful I had the courage to try the duck of a different fixing!
In Light & Love,
Florence
I'm grateful for a friend's suggestion of breaking the fast of the day with a feast at our favorite restaurant, East. A banquet was just what we all needed and I'm grateful the owners were in residence tonight because they are so wonderful in including us in their family. The mom is the creative genius for each new dish and loves sharing with us. Tonight was an Asian delicacy...duck's tongues. Yeah, I was a bit squeamish. I'm not that off the charts daring but was grateful I had the courage to try the duck of a different fixing!
In Light & Love,
Florence
The Eye Of The Beholder
photo by florence
I was drawn to this piece of driftwood; washed far away from shore; up over the dunes; left in reeds and weeds; its eye looking wisely like a Narwhale peering at the world from a different perspective.
What do you see in this picture?
Sunday, October 01, 2006
Quote For The Day
“To see a world in a grain of sand, / And a heaven in a wild flower, / Hold infinity in the palm of your hand, / And eternity in an hour.”
-William Blake, poet, engraver, and painter (1757-1827)
-William Blake, poet, engraver, and painter (1757-1827)
Saturday, September 30, 2006
The Gratitude Pool
I'm grateful for the beauty of nature all around.
When I make the time to look, I'm ever rewarded by things like the delicious feel of the change of season breezes on my skin; colors in grasses, flowers- even weeds...how they each look in the movement of wind.
How amazing they are together making a canvas of art in these things I take for granted or dismiss while I'm too busy being a human doing instead of a human BE-ing.
Just for today, I'm grateful I saw and felt this bit of the beginning of autumn.
And did I mention the gazillion butterflies all over my yard and the whole neighborhood?!
Wowser!
When I make the time to look, I'm ever rewarded by things like the delicious feel of the change of season breezes on my skin; colors in grasses, flowers- even weeds...how they each look in the movement of wind.
How amazing they are together making a canvas of art in these things I take for granted or dismiss while I'm too busy being a human doing instead of a human BE-ing.
Just for today, I'm grateful I saw and felt this bit of the beginning of autumn.
And did I mention the gazillion butterflies all over my yard and the whole neighborhood?!
Wowser!
Quote For The Day
"Those who never retract their opinions love themselves more than they love truth." -Joseph Joubert, essayist (1754-1824)
Friday, September 29, 2006
Politics, Perverts and Predators...Oh My...
...God!
Today's news shocker...another Republican unmasked for slime bucketing the American people...this time targeting boys... from the position of chairman of the House caucus on missing and exploited children!!!
Good grief! This six term Representative, Mark Foley, from the chad challenged state of Florida resigned...only after being CAUGHT "sending inappropriate emails to underage male congressional interns."
ABC News reported Friday that Foley also engaged in a series of sexually explicit instant messages with current and former male pages. In one message, ABC said, Foley wrote to one page: "Do I make you a little horny?"
In another message, Foley wrote, "You in your boxers, too? ... Well, strip down and get relaxed."
He's sorry of course (not before he got caught) blah blah blah...the usual pedophile whine after getting found out.
Oh yeah, we really feel bad for ya. Not.
And omigod, Florida gave him SIX terms in office to go after his particular prey!
"Foley's name will remain on the ballot, which has already been certified," said Susan Smith, a spokeswoman for the Florida Department of State. But Republicans have seven days to notify election officials of a replacement nominee who would take Foley's spot if he wins, she said.
Holy Crap! These yutzes still think he can win the next election and they can use a rotten Representative to place hold in their barrel of bad apples!
"It makes it more difficult, but we can still win," said Carl Forti, spokesman for the House Republican campaign committee. "It is a Republican district."
WTF?
AP reports that Foley was a member of the Republican leadership, serving as a deputy whip. He also was a member of the House Ways and Means Committee.
(I'll say!)
And here's another tactic shocker...
Foley's aides initially blamed Democratic rival Tim Mahoney and Democrats with attempting to smear the congressman before the election.
(Yeah, see how sorry he and his Republican cronies are.)
Oh, p.s.
Foley was the author of the key sexual predator provisions of the Adam Walsh Child Protection and Safety Act of 2006, which Bush signed in July.
WTF?
And...
Foley, who represents a district in southern Florida, was also a member of the powerful House Ways and Means Committee, which oversees tax and trade policy.
WTF?
Don't any of you Republican, moral-club-wielding, freekazoids talk one second more about right anything.
Police your own selves and clean up your own dirty backyards before you continue to false moralize and pass laws or judgments on anyone or anything else.
You're not sorry. You're just sorry when you get caught.
What I'm writing about here, is not about bashing anyone for sexual orientation. What I am saying specifically is that abuse and exploitation of children in this country, by anyone, is growing beyond our ability to imagine and the people we elect to represent us; to enact laws to protect our children from predators, actually are the liars, self-serving predators.
We're like the frog asking the scorpion to ferry us across the flooded river to safey...dead. Scorpions do what they do. No matter how much you hope they will change and be good, they sting.
Maybe I've got a bit of that hope within regarding that group of cartoon fodder...politicians. But in the last six years greed and overt fascist-like grabs for control is up--- and honesty and civil rights down.
Do you hear the coliseum roars of old, moments before the Roman Fall? Listen closely...
What we continue to ignore and disavow, allows disintegration to continue at bedrock.
And here we are in WTF Florida again with another political poser...
Maybe it might be best if California lets Florida be the state to fall off the North American continent when the earth shakes.
It's a head shaker, folks.
Today's news shocker...another Republican unmasked for slime bucketing the American people...this time targeting boys... from the position of chairman of the House caucus on missing and exploited children!!!
Good grief! This six term Representative, Mark Foley, from the chad challenged state of Florida resigned...only after being CAUGHT "sending inappropriate emails to underage male congressional interns."
ABC News reported Friday that Foley also engaged in a series of sexually explicit instant messages with current and former male pages. In one message, ABC said, Foley wrote to one page: "Do I make you a little horny?"
In another message, Foley wrote, "You in your boxers, too? ... Well, strip down and get relaxed."
He's sorry of course (not before he got caught) blah blah blah...the usual pedophile whine after getting found out.
Oh yeah, we really feel bad for ya. Not.
And omigod, Florida gave him SIX terms in office to go after his particular prey!
"Foley's name will remain on the ballot, which has already been certified," said Susan Smith, a spokeswoman for the Florida Department of State. But Republicans have seven days to notify election officials of a replacement nominee who would take Foley's spot if he wins, she said.
Holy Crap! These yutzes still think he can win the next election and they can use a rotten Representative to place hold in their barrel of bad apples!
"It makes it more difficult, but we can still win," said Carl Forti, spokesman for the House Republican campaign committee. "It is a Republican district."
WTF?
AP reports that Foley was a member of the Republican leadership, serving as a deputy whip. He also was a member of the House Ways and Means Committee.
(I'll say!)
And here's another tactic shocker...
Foley's aides initially blamed Democratic rival Tim Mahoney and Democrats with attempting to smear the congressman before the election.
(Yeah, see how sorry he and his Republican cronies are.)
Oh, p.s.
Foley was the author of the key sexual predator provisions of the Adam Walsh Child Protection and Safety Act of 2006, which Bush signed in July.
WTF?
And...
Foley, who represents a district in southern Florida, was also a member of the powerful House Ways and Means Committee, which oversees tax and trade policy.
WTF?
Don't any of you Republican, moral-club-wielding, freekazoids talk one second more about right anything.
Police your own selves and clean up your own dirty backyards before you continue to false moralize and pass laws or judgments on anyone or anything else.
You're not sorry. You're just sorry when you get caught.
What I'm writing about here, is not about bashing anyone for sexual orientation. What I am saying specifically is that abuse and exploitation of children in this country, by anyone, is growing beyond our ability to imagine and the people we elect to represent us; to enact laws to protect our children from predators, actually are the liars, self-serving predators.
We're like the frog asking the scorpion to ferry us across the flooded river to safey...dead. Scorpions do what they do. No matter how much you hope they will change and be good, they sting.
Maybe I've got a bit of that hope within regarding that group of cartoon fodder...politicians. But in the last six years greed and overt fascist-like grabs for control is up--- and honesty and civil rights down.
Do you hear the coliseum roars of old, moments before the Roman Fall? Listen closely...
What we continue to ignore and disavow, allows disintegration to continue at bedrock.
And here we are in WTF Florida again with another political poser...
Maybe it might be best if California lets Florida be the state to fall off the North American continent when the earth shakes.
It's a head shaker, folks.
The Gratitude Pool
I'm grateful for the feedback of friends. How else would I know what works on my pages-out there beyond my computer and what doesn't?
Now for the computer Angels...I'm grateful for their magic when glitches get me!
Now for the computer Angels...I'm grateful for their magic when glitches get me!
Quote For The Day
"I think the next best thing to solving a problem is finding some humor in
it." -Frank A. Clark, writer (1911- )
it." -Frank A. Clark, writer (1911- )
Thursday, September 28, 2006
The Gratitude Pool
by florence
I’m grateful for good friends who share their knowledge in order to be of help when you need it.
I think of good friends as family of choice. I’m so grateful for my extended family who have always been there. And I’m grateful to be able to be a good friend too.
Nice circle of giving and receiving in balance.
I’m grateful for good friends who share their knowledge in order to be of help when you need it.
I think of good friends as family of choice. I’m so grateful for my extended family who have always been there. And I’m grateful to be able to be a good friend too.
Nice circle of giving and receiving in balance.
Somewhere Over...
At the end of a long, tiring day with the homeward commute stretching to a crawl; feeling like a trek across a couple of continents’ worth of parking lot, what can you focus on to keep yourself from going out of your gourd?
Sure, put on some tunes or your favorite talk or news radio. Call up a couple of friends on your cell. They’re probably pretty much in the same parade as you. Commiserate.
Call home to tell them you’re probably going to be late—again. Yada yada for a while and when your battery conks out, now what?
Well, choices come to mind.
Sit and stew over everything that went wrong at the job or drive yourself into knots with worry over what didn’t get done. Hate the damnable traffic that snarls you in it each day. Get into some really gnarly road rage. Arrive home flying your cranky flag high.
Or………
Be open to trying something new; something that might just put the time stuck in the car to time benefitting you.
Here ya go. It’s simple.
Feel all your feelings as they come to your awareness; notice each one and breathe into the feeling as you notice.
Feel, breathe in, notice, and breathe out each feeling, situation, bit of tension or worry that comes to mind. Allow each to go out from you on the breath, into Light to become more Light. (Good recycling. Nice way to not pollute the Universe. Look what good you’re doing already just driving home from work. You’ve got gold stars piling up before you even hit homeplate!)
Next, notice how much easier you feel in your own skin; how much lower your shoulders are from your ears; how much more relieved your neck is balancing that bowling ball on the top of your spine.
Take a look at your fellow commuters in their little space capsules all around you. Get crazy. Smile at them.
Who cares if they think you’re a nut case?! Think macadamian, pecan, filbert, zagnut! Watch and see who smiles back. Just notice.
Now, go really wacky and daring. Let someone in ahead of you.
Go on, get nutty. The next time you see someone signaling; wave them on like you’re the royalty of the road bestowing your largess upon them. Use your hands to signal them on in front of you and wave like you’re the most courteous traffic attendant…’no, you go; no, you go; no, you go.’
Notice how nice that feels: generous, less angry and tense, happy, lighter, fun.
Notice that there really is enough space for everyone. How many times have you been in a hurry or seen someone else in such an all-fire rush, cutting in and out and winding up, where? One or two cars ahead or even with those who got cut off.
The space on the pavement might be pretty much the same but, oh, the energy is amped up on the hostility scale.
When someone lets you get in as you’re signaling, give em the wave and smile with a ‘thank you.’
This stuff just might become contagious.
Notice.
In your own mind (which is where it all starts), think, “I’m going to leave space in between my car and those around. I’m going to leave space for change.” (see how I switched that from ‘leave space for stupidity’)
Now, you are practically an Angel on the road.
Why, with all this to keep you busy, you just might find yourself home earlier than usual. Either way, it might seem that way because you feel better than usual.
And, maybe, just maybe, with all that noticing and positive energy, you might begin to see things along the way you might have missed… like the “Long Day’s Journey Into Light” photo below.
What a gift to lift your spirit at the end of a day. You deserve that beauty and Light!
Sure, put on some tunes or your favorite talk or news radio. Call up a couple of friends on your cell. They’re probably pretty much in the same parade as you. Commiserate.
Call home to tell them you’re probably going to be late—again. Yada yada for a while and when your battery conks out, now what?
Well, choices come to mind.
Sit and stew over everything that went wrong at the job or drive yourself into knots with worry over what didn’t get done. Hate the damnable traffic that snarls you in it each day. Get into some really gnarly road rage. Arrive home flying your cranky flag high.
Or………
Be open to trying something new; something that might just put the time stuck in the car to time benefitting you.
Here ya go. It’s simple.
Feel all your feelings as they come to your awareness; notice each one and breathe into the feeling as you notice.
Feel, breathe in, notice, and breathe out each feeling, situation, bit of tension or worry that comes to mind. Allow each to go out from you on the breath, into Light to become more Light. (Good recycling. Nice way to not pollute the Universe. Look what good you’re doing already just driving home from work. You’ve got gold stars piling up before you even hit homeplate!)
Next, notice how much easier you feel in your own skin; how much lower your shoulders are from your ears; how much more relieved your neck is balancing that bowling ball on the top of your spine.
Take a look at your fellow commuters in their little space capsules all around you. Get crazy. Smile at them.
Who cares if they think you’re a nut case?! Think macadamian, pecan, filbert, zagnut! Watch and see who smiles back. Just notice.
Now, go really wacky and daring. Let someone in ahead of you.
Go on, get nutty. The next time you see someone signaling; wave them on like you’re the royalty of the road bestowing your largess upon them. Use your hands to signal them on in front of you and wave like you’re the most courteous traffic attendant…’no, you go; no, you go; no, you go.’
Notice how nice that feels: generous, less angry and tense, happy, lighter, fun.
Notice that there really is enough space for everyone. How many times have you been in a hurry or seen someone else in such an all-fire rush, cutting in and out and winding up, where? One or two cars ahead or even with those who got cut off.
The space on the pavement might be pretty much the same but, oh, the energy is amped up on the hostility scale.
When someone lets you get in as you’re signaling, give em the wave and smile with a ‘thank you.’
This stuff just might become contagious.
Notice.
In your own mind (which is where it all starts), think, “I’m going to leave space in between my car and those around. I’m going to leave space for change.” (see how I switched that from ‘leave space for stupidity’)
Now, you are practically an Angel on the road.
Why, with all this to keep you busy, you just might find yourself home earlier than usual. Either way, it might seem that way because you feel better than usual.
And, maybe, just maybe, with all that noticing and positive energy, you might begin to see things along the way you might have missed… like the “Long Day’s Journey Into Light” photo below.
What a gift to lift your spirit at the end of a day. You deserve that beauty and Light!
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